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Memories
“ You’re beneath me.”
Buffy jolted up from the nightmare she had come to expect since her last glance at the crater that once was Sunnydale. She grabbed a fistful of Kleenex from the nightstand next to her and wiped her tear-stained face.
He cried when you told him that you heartless bitch. You could hear him.
Dropping her head into her hands, Buffy resisted the urge to fight back all of her painful memories. As she relented, they washed over her like the demon horde had done at the Hellmouth…only now, she had no will to stop them.
He loved you…with all of his undead heart, you know. Gave up his life for yours. And you couldn’t even tell him what you felt…what he knew you felt!
He didn’t believe you even when you finally told him because you had already broken him! You cold, heartless bitch!
“I love you!” “No you don’t, pet, but thanks for saying it.”
“You’re beneath me.”
“Oh God,” she choked, “I’m horrible…I can’t…uh!”
Flushed and strained, Buffy curled up on her side in the fetal position. Drawing her knees closer to her, she lost herself in the pattern of the hotel’s chincy wallpaper.
“I have to get him back,” she whispered, before drifting off into another nightmare. At least in her nightmares, she could see him.
--
He could see what she had meant about this place…bloke could get used to this. Spike gazed around, trying to focus on something other than the bluish-white haze.
“Bugger, it’s no use,” he sighed to himself, “Guess I’m just gonna float forever.”
His chest suddenly felt heavy. He looked down, half expecting a stake to be lodged in him, but was surprised when he saw the “Liz Taylor” amulet draped around his neck. Realizing that he was totally nude aside from said amulet, Spike attempted to cover his manhood, and then chuckled.
"Who am I hiding from anyway? Oooh bloody white light? Big bad nothing.”
A familiarly shrill voice cut through him from behind.
“Well, you don’t have to hide from me, but not everyone here has had the pleasure.”
Spike turned around and found himself standing, in all his glory, in front of a long white table. Seated behind it were six creatures ranging in size and color. Spike’s eyes hung on an eight-horned snouty demon that he had never could have begun to imagine existed, before a small white hand waved frantically.
“Hellooo?? Spikey?”
He smiled.
"Hello Anya.”
--
The search for Buffy was still raging, though there were fewer search parties venturing out into the night hoping to find her. Giles had left almost immediately after Buffy disappeared, taking Dawn with him to England, hoping to give her a more “normal” life. Dawn had been so distraught and angered at her sister’s abandonment she went more than willingly. Faith and the remaining Potentials also gave up their search quickly, opting instead, for a life in Chicago, where another Hellmouth was rumored to be. Only Xander, Willow and Angel remained steadfast in their attempts to find the Slayer.
Willow had searched as far as Buffalo, but turned up empty-handed. Buffy never liked the cold or hockey anyways, but Willow had hoped the lure of one of Spike’s favorite high-fat chickeny treats would have lead her there. The witch sighed as she plopped down on a soft leather couch in the large office, and shook her head.
“Where are you Buffy? And why can’t we find you?”
The large oak door opened behind her and two men trudged through. One wore an eye patch, the other, a well-practiced frown.
“Whaddya mean you’re giving up? You can’t—you’re like, her guy right? Help me out here, Will.”
Willow turned around and rolled her eyes.
“Not now Xander…major headache here! Too many tracking spells…none of them worked. It’s so frustrating!”
"Oh come on,” he continued, “You can’t just call it all off Angel! You have to help us find her! It’s Buffy…you know Buffy??? Saved the world a bunch?”
The ever-brooding Angel sighed.
“I can’t do it anymore. I’m not…I’m not permitted to.”
“ ‘Not permitted to?’ What does that mean?”
“I…well, the Powers That Be sent me a nice little message.”
“Which was…?”
“Which was call off the search or you’ll never get her back.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
“Okay then…come on…out with it Captain Forehead!”
Angel sighed and waltzed over to the large tinted window in his office. Xander frowned and tried to furrow his brows, but couldn’t quite achieve the angry pirate image he wanted to convey.
“You know you really are a…”
“Poofter,” a cocky voice offered.
“Yeah, a Poofter! And another thing…” Xander trailed off as all three heads turned toward the still nude and smiling Spike.
Buffy stood motionless in the hotel’s small shower. She hadn’t taken off her flip-flops, fearing the notorious shower grimies that thrived there. She could fight the evilest of evils and save the world countless times, but she was still terrified of hotel germs. And spiders…no matter how strong she is, no girl likes spiders. She sighed and turned the now chilly water off. Dripping, she stepped out of the shower onto the cold, wet floor and slipped. If it weren’t for Slayer reflexes, she would have cracked her head open on the side of the tub. As it was, she just cringed at the pain in her ribcage. Buffy tried to stand up, but faltered when her most painful memory flooded over her.
“Ask me again why I could never love you!”
You looked down on him…you never stopped doing that! You could see the pain in his eyes…he was confused, hurt and terrified. God, you know he didn’t want to hurt you! With all the mixed signals you sent to him every time you two had sex…this had been almost normal! Was it any wonder he kept pushing? The way he ran out of there…like a dog with his tail between his legs and a visibly breaking heart…that wrenched even your cold heart Buffy.
You really are an awful bitch you know. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that. He loved you with his soul, even before he had it back, and you tossed it in his face time and time again. Some defense mechanism. Frittered away the short time you had with him, then offered him up to the lions instead of giving Angel up. Well, now you’re alone like a stupid git and you have no one to blame but yourself.
Buffy shook her head and straightened up.
“I’m not alone,” she yelled at her plump reflection in the mirror. She placed a hand gently on her stomach. “And when did I start saying ‘git’?”
--
Willow averted her eyes to the floor.
“Wow. I…w…wow. I can totally see why Buffy liked you so much…”
Spike’s grin widened then fell when he realized he was still nude. “Why couldn’t Anya just send me right to Buffy? That stupid git,” he thought.
“Oh bloody hell, can someone at least give me a pillow or something?”
“Spike,” Angel seethed before chucking a pillow at him, which Spike nimbly caught. “What are you doing here?”
Spike looked around and shrugged, holding the pillow in front of himself.
“Well I sure don’t know Poofter. Saw a white light for a while then all of a sudden, I’m surrounded by your smiling faces. Afterlife is really a letdown if you’re here.”
Spike plopped down on the couch next to Willow, who bounced up quickly with a squeak.
“I’m gonna…pants. For Spike. Spike pants. Pants for Spike…”
Spike smiled, his white human teeth gleaming.
“Thanks Red.”
“What? Thanks? Umm…”
“For the pants Red. Preemptive pants thanks.”
“Oh…yeah, right. Pants. I’m on it.”
Willow bolted awkwardly out of the office on a pants quest, and Xander finally spoke up.
“So you’re not dead? Or not undead…or…well how does that whole thing work with you anyways?”
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed at the one-eyed Scoobie.
“Obviously, mate. Right here. Bloody flesh and…well, blood.”
“Ah…still all with the ‘Big Bad’ persona then? Right…so no one in the afterlife fixed your hair I see?”
“Oi! Now don’t insult my hair, mate. I haven’t tried yet, but I bet I can bite you now.”
“Settle down Captain Peroxide,” Angel piped up.
Spike frowned, “Hey!”
“If I have to be a…Poofter, then…well, whatever. We have to figure out why you’re back. Everyone has been plenty happy without you around you know. Especially Buffy.”
“Angel,” Xander scowled at the broody vamp. He didn’t like Spike much, but he’d be damned if he was going to let the last guy to save the world for Buffy be lied to. Spike raised an eyebrow at him.
“Spike, it’s not true. Buffy’s been….God, she’s been miserable since you died, uh again.”
Concern flashed across Spike’s face.
“What happened?”
“Well, she didn’t say anything after we left the crater, er…Sunnydale. Sunnydale’s a crater now, by the way.”
“Right. No more vacations there. Go on…”
“It was weird, when she and Angel broke up, she was sad, and when we brought her back, she was all cold and closed up Buffy. When you died…it was like…”
“Out with it already!”
“It was like her soul went with you. She just looked so empty…like she had nothing left. Then she started getting all sick and then just vanished.”
“Sick? What do you mean sick? She alright?”
“Well, like ‘Blechh!!’,” Xander mimed retching, to no one’s amusement, then continued. "You know, throwy-upy all the time sick.”
“So, where is she now? She alright? All moved on with some nice boring bloke?”
Xander rolled an eye and Angel threw his hands up.
“I can’t take anymore of this,” Angel shouted before storming out the door, almost knocking Willow over in the process.
“Here,” she said, proudly thrusting a black t-shirt and dress pants at Spike. “Sorry I couldn’t find any jeans, but hey black!”
“Anything is better than, well, than nothing, kitten, thanks,” Spike said, turning back to Xander, “Now about Buffy, where is she now? She alright?”
Willow interjected, “She left about a month after you…well, and we haven’t heard from her since. It’s been like five months already and there’s no trace of her. Can’t even find her with a spell…it’s like she just doesn’t want to be found, you know? I traced her as far as Buffalo, but after there, well…after there, she’s just gone. Even Dawnie hasn’t heard from her. Oh!!! What’ll Dawnie say when she hears you’re alive?? Oh! She’ll be so happy!”
Spike had clothed himself as Willow spoke, and then absently sucked on a tooth.
“Well then, it’s off to Buffalo.”
“Good chicken wings there,” Xander offered.
“Right,” Spike said, “I’ll be needing a coat though…I seem to have misplaced mine.”
--
Buffy jolted up from the nightmare she had come to expect since her last glance at the crater that once was Sunnydale. She grabbed a fistful of Kleenex from the nightstand next to her and wiped her tear-stained face.
He cried when you told him that you heartless bitch. You could hear him.
Dropping her head into her hands, Buffy resisted the urge to fight back all of her painful memories. As she relented, they washed over her like the demon horde had done at the Hellmouth…only now, she had no will to stop them.
He loved you…with all of his undead heart, you know. Gave up his life for yours. And you couldn’t even tell him what you felt…what he knew you felt!
He didn’t believe you even when you finally told him because you had already broken him! You cold, heartless bitch!
“I love you!” “No you don’t, pet, but thanks for saying it.”
“You’re beneath me.”
“Oh God,” she choked, “I’m horrible…I can’t…uh!”
Flushed and strained, Buffy curled up on her side in the fetal position. Drawing her knees closer to her, she lost herself in the pattern of the hotel’s chincy wallpaper.
“I have to get him back,” she whispered, before drifting off into another nightmare. At least in her nightmares, she could see him.
--
He could see what she had meant about this place…bloke could get used to this. Spike gazed around, trying to focus on something other than the bluish-white haze.
“Bugger, it’s no use,” he sighed to himself, “Guess I’m just gonna float forever.”
His chest suddenly felt heavy. He looked down, half expecting a stake to be lodged in him, but was surprised when he saw the “Liz Taylor” amulet draped around his neck. Realizing that he was totally nude aside from said amulet, Spike attempted to cover his manhood, and then chuckled.
"Who am I hiding from anyway? Oooh bloody white light? Big bad nothing.”
A familiarly shrill voice cut through him from behind.
“Well, you don’t have to hide from me, but not everyone here has had the pleasure.”
Spike turned around and found himself standing, in all his glory, in front of a long white table. Seated behind it were six creatures ranging in size and color. Spike’s eyes hung on an eight-horned snouty demon that he had never could have begun to imagine existed, before a small white hand waved frantically.
“Hellooo?? Spikey?”
He smiled.
"Hello Anya.”
--
The search for Buffy was still raging, though there were fewer search parties venturing out into the night hoping to find her. Giles had left almost immediately after Buffy disappeared, taking Dawn with him to England, hoping to give her a more “normal” life. Dawn had been so distraught and angered at her sister’s abandonment she went more than willingly. Faith and the remaining Potentials also gave up their search quickly, opting instead, for a life in Chicago, where another Hellmouth was rumored to be. Only Xander, Willow and Angel remained steadfast in their attempts to find the Slayer.
Willow had searched as far as Buffalo, but turned up empty-handed. Buffy never liked the cold or hockey anyways, but Willow had hoped the lure of one of Spike’s favorite high-fat chickeny treats would have lead her there. The witch sighed as she plopped down on a soft leather couch in the large office, and shook her head.
“Where are you Buffy? And why can’t we find you?”
The large oak door opened behind her and two men trudged through. One wore an eye patch, the other, a well-practiced frown.
“Whaddya mean you’re giving up? You can’t—you’re like, her guy right? Help me out here, Will.”
Willow turned around and rolled her eyes.
“Not now Xander…major headache here! Too many tracking spells…none of them worked. It’s so frustrating!”
"Oh come on,” he continued, “You can’t just call it all off Angel! You have to help us find her! It’s Buffy…you know Buffy??? Saved the world a bunch?”
The ever-brooding Angel sighed.
“I can’t do it anymore. I’m not…I’m not permitted to.”
“ ‘Not permitted to?’ What does that mean?”
“I…well, the Powers That Be sent me a nice little message.”
“Which was…?”
“Which was call off the search or you’ll never get her back.”
“That’s it?”
“No.”
“Okay then…come on…out with it Captain Forehead!”
Angel sighed and waltzed over to the large tinted window in his office. Xander frowned and tried to furrow his brows, but couldn’t quite achieve the angry pirate image he wanted to convey.
“You know you really are a…”
“Poofter,” a cocky voice offered.
“Yeah, a Poofter! And another thing…” Xander trailed off as all three heads turned toward the still nude and smiling Spike.
Buffy stood motionless in the hotel’s small shower. She hadn’t taken off her flip-flops, fearing the notorious shower grimies that thrived there. She could fight the evilest of evils and save the world countless times, but she was still terrified of hotel germs. And spiders…no matter how strong she is, no girl likes spiders. She sighed and turned the now chilly water off. Dripping, she stepped out of the shower onto the cold, wet floor and slipped. If it weren’t for Slayer reflexes, she would have cracked her head open on the side of the tub. As it was, she just cringed at the pain in her ribcage. Buffy tried to stand up, but faltered when her most painful memory flooded over her.
“Ask me again why I could never love you!”
You looked down on him…you never stopped doing that! You could see the pain in his eyes…he was confused, hurt and terrified. God, you know he didn’t want to hurt you! With all the mixed signals you sent to him every time you two had sex…this had been almost normal! Was it any wonder he kept pushing? The way he ran out of there…like a dog with his tail between his legs and a visibly breaking heart…that wrenched even your cold heart Buffy.
You really are an awful bitch you know. He didn’t deserve to be treated like that. He loved you with his soul, even before he had it back, and you tossed it in his face time and time again. Some defense mechanism. Frittered away the short time you had with him, then offered him up to the lions instead of giving Angel up. Well, now you’re alone like a stupid git and you have no one to blame but yourself.
Buffy shook her head and straightened up.
“I’m not alone,” she yelled at her plump reflection in the mirror. She placed a hand gently on her stomach. “And when did I start saying ‘git’?”
--
Willow averted her eyes to the floor.
“Wow. I…w…wow. I can totally see why Buffy liked you so much…”
Spike’s grin widened then fell when he realized he was still nude. “Why couldn’t Anya just send me right to Buffy? That stupid git,” he thought.
“Oh bloody hell, can someone at least give me a pillow or something?”
“Spike,” Angel seethed before chucking a pillow at him, which Spike nimbly caught. “What are you doing here?”
Spike looked around and shrugged, holding the pillow in front of himself.
“Well I sure don’t know Poofter. Saw a white light for a while then all of a sudden, I’m surrounded by your smiling faces. Afterlife is really a letdown if you’re here.”
Spike plopped down on the couch next to Willow, who bounced up quickly with a squeak.
“I’m gonna…pants. For Spike. Spike pants. Pants for Spike…”
Spike smiled, his white human teeth gleaming.
“Thanks Red.”
“What? Thanks? Umm…”
“For the pants Red. Preemptive pants thanks.”
“Oh…yeah, right. Pants. I’m on it.”
Willow bolted awkwardly out of the office on a pants quest, and Xander finally spoke up.
“So you’re not dead? Or not undead…or…well how does that whole thing work with you anyways?”
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed at the one-eyed Scoobie.
“Obviously, mate. Right here. Bloody flesh and…well, blood.”
“Ah…still all with the ‘Big Bad’ persona then? Right…so no one in the afterlife fixed your hair I see?”
“Oi! Now don’t insult my hair, mate. I haven’t tried yet, but I bet I can bite you now.”
“Settle down Captain Peroxide,” Angel piped up.
Spike frowned, “Hey!”
“If I have to be a…Poofter, then…well, whatever. We have to figure out why you’re back. Everyone has been plenty happy without you around you know. Especially Buffy.”
“Angel,” Xander scowled at the broody vamp. He didn’t like Spike much, but he’d be damned if he was going to let the last guy to save the world for Buffy be lied to. Spike raised an eyebrow at him.
“Spike, it’s not true. Buffy’s been….God, she’s been miserable since you died, uh again.”
Concern flashed across Spike’s face.
“What happened?”
“Well, she didn’t say anything after we left the crater, er…Sunnydale. Sunnydale’s a crater now, by the way.”
“Right. No more vacations there. Go on…”
“It was weird, when she and Angel broke up, she was sad, and when we brought her back, she was all cold and closed up Buffy. When you died…it was like…”
“Out with it already!”
“It was like her soul went with you. She just looked so empty…like she had nothing left. Then she started getting all sick and then just vanished.”
“Sick? What do you mean sick? She alright?”
“Well, like ‘Blechh!!’,” Xander mimed retching, to no one’s amusement, then continued. "You know, throwy-upy all the time sick.”
“So, where is she now? She alright? All moved on with some nice boring bloke?”
Xander rolled an eye and Angel threw his hands up.
“I can’t take anymore of this,” Angel shouted before storming out the door, almost knocking Willow over in the process.
“Here,” she said, proudly thrusting a black t-shirt and dress pants at Spike. “Sorry I couldn’t find any jeans, but hey black!”
“Anything is better than, well, than nothing, kitten, thanks,” Spike said, turning back to Xander, “Now about Buffy, where is she now? She alright?”
Willow interjected, “She left about a month after you…well, and we haven’t heard from her since. It’s been like five months already and there’s no trace of her. Can’t even find her with a spell…it’s like she just doesn’t want to be found, you know? I traced her as far as Buffalo, but after there, well…after there, she’s just gone. Even Dawnie hasn’t heard from her. Oh!!! What’ll Dawnie say when she hears you’re alive?? Oh! She’ll be so happy!”
Spike had clothed himself as Willow spoke, and then absently sucked on a tooth.
“Well then, it’s off to Buffalo.”
“Good chicken wings there,” Xander offered.
“Right,” Spike said, “I’ll be needing a coat though…I seem to have misplaced mine.”
--
Spamalot
“We're knights of the round table,
We dance when e're we're able,
We do routines and chorus scenes,
With footwork impecc-able,
We dine well here in Camelot,
We eat ham and jam and spam alot!
Spam-spam-spam-spam!”
Buffy sighed and sank into her seat in the balcony. It wasn’t the same. In the months after Spike’s death she had wanted anything and everything even remotely British. Deciding that Monty Python was the most Britishy thing in Toronto, off to Spamalot Buffy went. Most days she just read a lot. She had taken up carrying a book of Brit poetry with her everywhere, though she really never understood it. Spike would really have to…no, she chided herself…Spike couldn’t explain it to her.
Idiot.
Spike was gone and nothing could bring him back. Not the loneliness in her heart or the growing girth of her stomach. Nothing could bring back her Spike….
He was never “Your Spike.” You never let him be.
Buffy pouted and turned her attention back to King Arthur and his Knights, and the evil killer rabbit…oh, Anya would have hated this musical! Sitting, in a private balcony not far away from Buffy, was a tall and unbelievably handsome man. Buffy may not have noticed him…but The Immortal noticed her.
--
“Not the most comfortable traveling accommodations there, Poofter. Thought your law buddies could foot the bill for some nicer transports, eh?”
Angel sighed and smacked his head against the side of the large wooden crate he and Spike were sharing.
“Really not in the mood Spike.”
“Oi! I didn’t ask you to come along Poofter, you just followed us, right? You don’t get to complain.”
Angel scowled, “You think I’m going to let you of all people look for Buffy alone?”
“Wasn’t gonna be alone. Got the witch and the whelp,” Spike said, motioning upwards.
“I’m not even supposed to be trying to find her.”
“And why not?”
“It doesn’t really matter now, does it? Already on the way. Hope They aren’t too vengeful this time. At any rate, trains are still the safest way for us to travel, Spike. No X-ray machines to pass through.”
“Right,” Spike sighed. “Still doesn’t make me happy to be cooped up with you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
A sharp pain shot through Spike’s body, making him cringe.
“Oh God…Buffy!”
Angel crawled closer to Spike, “What? What is it? What’s the matter with her?”
“She’s in trouble…I can feel it…and I can feel her. We’re getting closer.”
--
Willow stared out of the window at the trees whipping past her eyes.
“What’s the matter, Will?”
She smiled at Xander.
“Nothing…just worried you know? About Buffy.”
“I know…me too.”
“She was really starting to get sick…I hope she’s okay, not dead in an alley or something…”
“Buffy? Naw, don’t really see her as the ‘dead in an alley’ type, do you? She’d fight anybody off, even with the flu.”
“She did that once.”
“I know.”
Xander put his arm around Willow, drawing her close into his chest.
“It’ll be okay you know? We’ll find her. Especially with Spike helping us. He could always find Buffy. At least he’s good for something.”
“That and saving the world.”
“Right. That too.”
--
Dusk slowly turned to night as the train pulled into Buffalo’s sole train station. Xander and Willow nonchalantly broke apart the crate holding Angel and Spike. Spike held his stomach as he crawled out of the crate.
“What’s wrong with Spike?” Xander asked.
Angel shrugged.
“Said he thinks Buffy’s in trouble. Says he can ‘feel her.’ I don’t buy it.”
Willow moved closer to the blonde vampire and rubbed his shoulder.
“You okay, Spike?”
He nodded, and tried to smile, but was obviously in a great deal of pain.
“Yeah. Just gotta find Buffy soon.”
Spike sniffed in the night air. Noticing his efforts, Angel mimicked Spike’s actions, but to no avail. After a moment, Spike pointed northward.
“She’s this way.”
Angel scoffed.
“Right, and we’re just supposed to trust your instincts? I can’t even pick up her scent, how can you?”
“Dunno Poofter, guess I’ve just had a lot more of her scent on me. I recognize it.”
Angel scowled and moved menacingly towards Spike, but Willow held him back.
“Okay, no more macho man fights…Buffy first, fighty later…”
Spike and Angel nodded, and the group followed Spike’s nose and gut, hoping it would lead them to their Slayer.
--
Buffy flipped through her British poetry book, coming to the sole well-worn page in it. There was no title, no author, but it was the one poem that Buffy could connect with. She often wondered why, but to her, it really didn’t matter. She just loved it.
“My soul is racked in harsh repose
Midnight descends in raven colored clothes
But soft, behold!
A sunlight beam
Cutting a swath of glimmering gleam
My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in't,
Inspired by your beauty effulgent”
She sighed and smiled slightly, before shutting the book and standing up as the grungy bus pulled up to her stop. As she stepped out of the bus, Buffy sensed a strange presence behind her, and pulled Spike’s leather duster around her, subconsciously trying to protect herself. She turned to look, and was greeted by a tall man stepping out of a long, black limousine.
"How did you enjoy the show Miss…?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow warily, “Buffy.”
“Miss Buffy?”
“No…just Buffy.”
"Would you mind speaking with me for a moment?"
"I'm really not in the mood. Sorry."
"It will only take a second, please, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Listen, buddy, no means no. Beat it."
“Ah. Yes, well then, Buffy...I'll just return this to you. You seemed to have left it at the theatre, I picked it up from your seat. You see, I went to speak with you there, but you were gone. I saw you leaving, and I tried to return it as you left, but alas, you didn’t hear me.”
The man held out a small white glove, which Buffy took and inspected; a light powder fell off of it onto Buffy’s hands, and absorbed almost instantly.
“Hate to break it to you, but that’s not mine,” she said holding the glove out to him.
The man smiled, but didn’t take the glove back.
"Ah. Then I wonder whom it belongs to. Very strange indeed. Well, at the very least it allowed me the pleasure of your company, if only for a moment. Well, I feel rather silly asking a favor after my heroics are dashed so easily."
Buffy’s interest was piqued.
“What was the favor,” she asked a little woozily.
“Well, I simply saw a beautiful woman in the theatre and I thought perhaps she may be a bit peckish.”
Buffy’s head felt like it was spinning round and round. She blinked as a second image of the man appeared, and lost her grip on her book. As she began to sway, he made his move.
“Oh dear! Let me help you!”
Losing consciousness quickly, Buffy tried to struggle against his firm grip as he loaded her into the limousine.
“My...book…” she whimpered as she blacked out.
The Immortal smiled. “Back home then.”
--
Because of Willow’s dedication to her friends, she always kept a wallet-sized photo of each of them with her…at least those whose images could be captured on film. Spike had taken Buffy’s picture out and flashed it around to the various cabbies and bus drivers around the train station. A small Korean man had recognized Buffy’s picture and told him he had dropped her off in Toronto the previous month.
“It cost her a pretty penny too,” he offered.
“Did she mention where she was going?”
“Well I’m not sure…” he trailed off.
Spike reached into his coat pocket and grabbed a wallet, pulling out a fifty and waved it in front of the cabbie. "I’ll have to thank whoever’s coat this is later,” he thought.
“You sure you don’t remember, mate?”
The cabbie smiled and grabbed at the bill.
“Well, she did ask for a cheap hotel’s name, and since she spend so much, I drove her the extra 5 miles for free. I took her to the Apple Cove motel. I not just in it for money, you know…she was hot…a little chubby, but hot.”
“And where is that, mate?”
The cabbie pulled out a dirty napkin and a pen, and scribbled a simplistic map, marking the hotel’s location, and handed it to the blonde vamp.
“Thanks mate.”
“Sure. Well good luck finding her. She your wife or something?”
“Or something. How’d you guess?”
The cabbie smiled.
“Well, only thing she said while we were driving was about you I guess. She had this big book of British poetry with her and I asked if she married to a British guy or in love or something. She said same thing you did, ‘Or something.’ Then she clam up. Three hours of silence not pass so quickly.”
Angel crossed his arms and huffed.
“Can we just go now, Spike? I don’t think he knows anything else.”
Spike smiled.
“Sure thing Poofter. Thanks again mate.”
"One thing though, guys. How are you gonna get there? We can’t all fit in a cab, and it’s not like we can walk,” Xander said.
Angel took his cell phone from his pocket and called his Wolfram and Hart office.
“Harmony? Yeah, it’s me. I need you to get me a car…Buffalo…No, no I haven’t found her yet…Can you…uh…Can you just…okay. Yeah, thanks.”
Angel closed his cell phone and sighed. Whenever Spike was around, he seemed to sigh even more than usual.
“Well, they said a car should be here within the hour.”
Spike shook his head. “We can’t wait that long, Poofter. She’s in trouble.”
“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better plan Spike. It’s not like we can walk to Toronto.”
About an hour later, Angel pulled over to pick up the stubborn Spike who had started walking, Willow had noted, probably just to spite Angel.
We dance when e're we're able,
We do routines and chorus scenes,
With footwork impecc-able,
We dine well here in Camelot,
We eat ham and jam and spam alot!
Spam-spam-spam-spam!”
Buffy sighed and sank into her seat in the balcony. It wasn’t the same. In the months after Spike’s death she had wanted anything and everything even remotely British. Deciding that Monty Python was the most Britishy thing in Toronto, off to Spamalot Buffy went. Most days she just read a lot. She had taken up carrying a book of Brit poetry with her everywhere, though she really never understood it. Spike would really have to…no, she chided herself…Spike couldn’t explain it to her.
Idiot.
Spike was gone and nothing could bring him back. Not the loneliness in her heart or the growing girth of her stomach. Nothing could bring back her Spike….
He was never “Your Spike.” You never let him be.
Buffy pouted and turned her attention back to King Arthur and his Knights, and the evil killer rabbit…oh, Anya would have hated this musical! Sitting, in a private balcony not far away from Buffy, was a tall and unbelievably handsome man. Buffy may not have noticed him…but The Immortal noticed her.
--
“Not the most comfortable traveling accommodations there, Poofter. Thought your law buddies could foot the bill for some nicer transports, eh?”
Angel sighed and smacked his head against the side of the large wooden crate he and Spike were sharing.
“Really not in the mood Spike.”
“Oi! I didn’t ask you to come along Poofter, you just followed us, right? You don’t get to complain.”
Angel scowled, “You think I’m going to let you of all people look for Buffy alone?”
“Wasn’t gonna be alone. Got the witch and the whelp,” Spike said, motioning upwards.
“I’m not even supposed to be trying to find her.”
“And why not?”
“It doesn’t really matter now, does it? Already on the way. Hope They aren’t too vengeful this time. At any rate, trains are still the safest way for us to travel, Spike. No X-ray machines to pass through.”
“Right,” Spike sighed. “Still doesn’t make me happy to be cooped up with you.”
“The feeling’s mutual.”
A sharp pain shot through Spike’s body, making him cringe.
“Oh God…Buffy!”
Angel crawled closer to Spike, “What? What is it? What’s the matter with her?”
“She’s in trouble…I can feel it…and I can feel her. We’re getting closer.”
--
Willow stared out of the window at the trees whipping past her eyes.
“What’s the matter, Will?”
She smiled at Xander.
“Nothing…just worried you know? About Buffy.”
“I know…me too.”
“She was really starting to get sick…I hope she’s okay, not dead in an alley or something…”
“Buffy? Naw, don’t really see her as the ‘dead in an alley’ type, do you? She’d fight anybody off, even with the flu.”
“She did that once.”
“I know.”
Xander put his arm around Willow, drawing her close into his chest.
“It’ll be okay you know? We’ll find her. Especially with Spike helping us. He could always find Buffy. At least he’s good for something.”
“That and saving the world.”
“Right. That too.”
--
Dusk slowly turned to night as the train pulled into Buffalo’s sole train station. Xander and Willow nonchalantly broke apart the crate holding Angel and Spike. Spike held his stomach as he crawled out of the crate.
“What’s wrong with Spike?” Xander asked.
Angel shrugged.
“Said he thinks Buffy’s in trouble. Says he can ‘feel her.’ I don’t buy it.”
Willow moved closer to the blonde vampire and rubbed his shoulder.
“You okay, Spike?”
He nodded, and tried to smile, but was obviously in a great deal of pain.
“Yeah. Just gotta find Buffy soon.”
Spike sniffed in the night air. Noticing his efforts, Angel mimicked Spike’s actions, but to no avail. After a moment, Spike pointed northward.
“She’s this way.”
Angel scoffed.
“Right, and we’re just supposed to trust your instincts? I can’t even pick up her scent, how can you?”
“Dunno Poofter, guess I’ve just had a lot more of her scent on me. I recognize it.”
Angel scowled and moved menacingly towards Spike, but Willow held him back.
“Okay, no more macho man fights…Buffy first, fighty later…”
Spike and Angel nodded, and the group followed Spike’s nose and gut, hoping it would lead them to their Slayer.
--
Buffy flipped through her British poetry book, coming to the sole well-worn page in it. There was no title, no author, but it was the one poem that Buffy could connect with. She often wondered why, but to her, it really didn’t matter. She just loved it.
“My soul is racked in harsh repose
Midnight descends in raven colored clothes
But soft, behold!
A sunlight beam
Cutting a swath of glimmering gleam
My heart expands, 'tis grown a bulge in't,
Inspired by your beauty effulgent”
She sighed and smiled slightly, before shutting the book and standing up as the grungy bus pulled up to her stop. As she stepped out of the bus, Buffy sensed a strange presence behind her, and pulled Spike’s leather duster around her, subconsciously trying to protect herself. She turned to look, and was greeted by a tall man stepping out of a long, black limousine.
"How did you enjoy the show Miss…?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow warily, “Buffy.”
“Miss Buffy?”
“No…just Buffy.”
"Would you mind speaking with me for a moment?"
"I'm really not in the mood. Sorry."
"It will only take a second, please, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Listen, buddy, no means no. Beat it."
“Ah. Yes, well then, Buffy...I'll just return this to you. You seemed to have left it at the theatre, I picked it up from your seat. You see, I went to speak with you there, but you were gone. I saw you leaving, and I tried to return it as you left, but alas, you didn’t hear me.”
The man held out a small white glove, which Buffy took and inspected; a light powder fell off of it onto Buffy’s hands, and absorbed almost instantly.
“Hate to break it to you, but that’s not mine,” she said holding the glove out to him.
The man smiled, but didn’t take the glove back.
"Ah. Then I wonder whom it belongs to. Very strange indeed. Well, at the very least it allowed me the pleasure of your company, if only for a moment. Well, I feel rather silly asking a favor after my heroics are dashed so easily."
Buffy’s interest was piqued.
“What was the favor,” she asked a little woozily.
“Well, I simply saw a beautiful woman in the theatre and I thought perhaps she may be a bit peckish.”
Buffy’s head felt like it was spinning round and round. She blinked as a second image of the man appeared, and lost her grip on her book. As she began to sway, he made his move.
“Oh dear! Let me help you!”
Losing consciousness quickly, Buffy tried to struggle against his firm grip as he loaded her into the limousine.
“My...book…” she whimpered as she blacked out.
The Immortal smiled. “Back home then.”
--
Because of Willow’s dedication to her friends, she always kept a wallet-sized photo of each of them with her…at least those whose images could be captured on film. Spike had taken Buffy’s picture out and flashed it around to the various cabbies and bus drivers around the train station. A small Korean man had recognized Buffy’s picture and told him he had dropped her off in Toronto the previous month.
“It cost her a pretty penny too,” he offered.
“Did she mention where she was going?”
“Well I’m not sure…” he trailed off.
Spike reached into his coat pocket and grabbed a wallet, pulling out a fifty and waved it in front of the cabbie. "I’ll have to thank whoever’s coat this is later,” he thought.
“You sure you don’t remember, mate?”
The cabbie smiled and grabbed at the bill.
“Well, she did ask for a cheap hotel’s name, and since she spend so much, I drove her the extra 5 miles for free. I took her to the Apple Cove motel. I not just in it for money, you know…she was hot…a little chubby, but hot.”
“And where is that, mate?”
The cabbie pulled out a dirty napkin and a pen, and scribbled a simplistic map, marking the hotel’s location, and handed it to the blonde vamp.
“Thanks mate.”
“Sure. Well good luck finding her. She your wife or something?”
“Or something. How’d you guess?”
The cabbie smiled.
“Well, only thing she said while we were driving was about you I guess. She had this big book of British poetry with her and I asked if she married to a British guy or in love or something. She said same thing you did, ‘Or something.’ Then she clam up. Three hours of silence not pass so quickly.”
Angel crossed his arms and huffed.
“Can we just go now, Spike? I don’t think he knows anything else.”
Spike smiled.
“Sure thing Poofter. Thanks again mate.”
"One thing though, guys. How are you gonna get there? We can’t all fit in a cab, and it’s not like we can walk,” Xander said.
Angel took his cell phone from his pocket and called his Wolfram and Hart office.
“Harmony? Yeah, it’s me. I need you to get me a car…Buffalo…No, no I haven’t found her yet…Can you…uh…Can you just…okay. Yeah, thanks.”
Angel closed his cell phone and sighed. Whenever Spike was around, he seemed to sigh even more than usual.
“Well, they said a car should be here within the hour.”
Spike shook his head. “We can’t wait that long, Poofter. She’s in trouble.”
“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better plan Spike. It’s not like we can walk to Toronto.”
About an hour later, Angel pulled over to pick up the stubborn Spike who had started walking, Willow had noted, probably just to spite Angel.
Hanging Out
Buffy woke up freezing cold with a throbbing headache.
Oh man…what happened?
Squinting through the haze around her, she saw an almost angelic face in front of her.
“Spike?”
“No, dear. Sorry. But you’ll soon see that I’m a better man.”
Buffy shook the haze from her eyes, and fixed her gaze on the man standing in front of her. He was tall, with very light brown hair and dark blue eyes…he was as handsome as a man could get, but had a distinctly creepy air about him.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Well, I’ve had many names throughout the years, but it’s usually just ‘The Immortal,’ dear.”
She frowned at him and tried to attack, but realized that she was held back, and strapped to a wall.
“What do you want with me? I’m not the Slayer anymore. I’m done. I gave up.”
The Immortal smiled evilly.
“That’s not the point, dear. You can’t give up being the Slayer. Anyway, I’ve always had a thing for Angelus’ women…especially the ones who had some kicks with your William…er…‘Spike,’ as you call him.”
Buffy struggled against the restraints he had wrapped around her wrists and ankles.
“You sick piece of shit! I’ve never…uh…I’m not Angel’s woman.”
The Immortal shrugged and continued.
“Well, when I heard that Angelus had a Slayer, and after he went back to his evil ways, she ran into William’s waiting arms, I simply couldn’t resist you! There’s always something special about the women that the two of them fall for; Darla…Drusilla…and you. All strong, beautiful, and dark.”
“I’m not dark. I’m not anything anymore…so can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I’m afraid not my dear, but really, I never expected this….”
The Immortal pointed to her protruding belly, no longer hidden by Spike’s duster, which now lay crumpled on the floor.
“There's no avoiding me now, dear. You have, how would you put it, a double whammy? Angelus' cast off pregnant with William's child? It is so...perfect.”
Buffy’s face began to turn a bright shade of red in rage.
“How do you even know if it’s Spike’s?”
"I can sense things dear. You learn to do that when you’re…well, immortal," he chuckled at his own joke and continued, “that thing you’re carrying isn’t human. It’s half vampire. Who did you sign a deal with to get that to happen, hmm? It’s all but impossible, you know.”
“I didn’t do anything. Please, just let us go, alright? I’ll pay you whatever you want, and I promise I won’t kill you, okay? I just want to be left alone!”
“Immortal, dear. Death threats don’t work on me. But, you see, this isn’t even about you anymore, really. I’ve always wanted an immortal child to rear, but the women I choose seem to meet unfortunate ends, or just can’t have children. But this…”
He grazed a long fingernail across her belly, ignoring her screams and feverish jerks.
“This child is already immortal…I’ll raise…”
The Immortal stopped suddenly and started chuckling. Buffy was still furious, but was intrigued at his laughter.
“What’s so hilarious? I could really use a good joke right about now.”
“Oh nothing. Please, make yourself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can be. Now, you should learn to be respectful to your elders...then you won't be chained to a wall. Just for future reference. But don't fret my dear one, the kids will be fine. I’ll see you in a while. Rest up for me, dear. You’re going to need your energy later.”
He turned and strutted out of the room, leaving Buffy hanging against the wall.
What’d he mean by ‘kids?’
--
“I just want your extra time and your…*smooch smooch smooch smooch smooch* kiss!”
Willow sang along with the radio softly as Xander snored on the seat next to her. Angel cleared his throat and shut off the radio as they pulled into the motel’s parking lot.
“Well, here goes nothing,” he said.
Willow shook Xander’s shoulder to rouse him.
“Huh? What? Giraffe toast…what?”
“Wake up, we’re here! How is Mr. Giraffe by the way?”
“He’s good…hey…how did you…no voodoo mind reading right Will?”
“Nope. Just the normal kind.”
Xander’s eye bulged out and Willow smiled.
“You still talk in your sleep dummy.”
“Ah…I thought I grew outta that.”
“Shh!”
Spike silenced them as he climbed out of the car. He sniffed the air around them and ran toward the front of the motel. Stopping at the cracked sidewalk, he bent down and grabbed Buffy’s book of British poetry. He sniffed it.
“Buffy.”
Angel was close enough behind him to hear him, and looked around in vain.
“Well, where is she?”
Spike flipped through the pages of the large book, stopping briefly on the marked poem of “anonymous.” Had he been human, he would have been blushing, but since he lacked the ability, only looked back and forth quickly. He shut the book, and looked at Angel.
“Huh?”
“Buffy. You said her name. Is she close? Is that her book?”
Spike nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s hers alright. Got her name scribbled on the front cover and all that. It was still warm…I can feel her on it. She can’t have been gone for too long.”
Willow and Xander finally caught up to the vampires. Xander turned to Spike and pointed at the book.
“Is that Buffy’s?”
“Yeah,” Spike replied.
Willow smiled.
“I never knew she liked poetry.”
Spike raised an eyebrow as he sniffed the air.
“She doesn’t. She’s this way. Better not take the car…they might hear us coming...she isn’t far anyway. Her scent is strong…and she’s frightened.”
--
“Spike? Could you stay here?”
“Sure. That diabolical torture device, the comfy chair. Do me fine.”
"No…I mean…here. Will you just hold me?”
Buffy could swear that she felt Spike’s strong arms surrounding her. She realized, of course, that they weren't. She groggily tried to pull at the chains holding her to the wall, and, to her surprise, they loosened slightly.
With a few more tugs, Buffy heard the wall behind her begin to give. Heavy footsteps clicked outside of the red doorway, and Buffy pushed back against the wall as best she could, holding it, and herself, in place. The Immortal slinked into the room, molesting her form with his eyes. His smarmy European look made Buffy want to vomit and kick his ass all at the same time.
Wait for it girl…wait for your opportunity.
“So how is Miss Buffy feeling now? All rested up I trust?”
Buffy frowned, but held her tongue as he continued to strut back and forth in front of her.
“I thought we may have a little fun tonight…I can tell that it’s been quite a long time for you Miss Buffy...but don't worry. I'll be gentle.”
The Immortal reached his long fingers toward Buffy’s torso. He didn’t reach even the hem of her blouse before the wall crashed down on him.
“Don’t touch me,” she said to the pile of rubble in front of her.
--
Spike and Angel walked around the small warehouse.
“She’s in here somewhere…”
“Great. So how do we get in there, Spike?”
Angel jumped back as Spike’s answer came soaring and crashing through the warehouse’s window.
“Without being noticed Spike!”
When no alarms sounded and no henchmen appeared, Spike smiled.
“Don’t think anyone noticed Poofter.”
Willow and Xander wandered around the side of the building, distraught looks on their faces.
“I couldn’t find a way in,” Willow began, before noticing the broken glass around their feet. She smiled broadly. “But I guess you guys took care of that!”
The group slowly climbed through the broken window into a large and dimly lit room. Spike lead them to the other side of the room, where three doors stood in a row.
Xander turned to Spike and feigned a salute.
“So what’s the plan Captain Peroxide?”
Spike scoffed and Angel growled.
“Why’s Spike in charge all of a sudden?”
“What makes you so sure you should be in charge, eh? Oooh look at me, I’m Angel I have gelled hair and a large forehead, so everyone should follow me! Piss off!”
As the two vampires moved toward each other, fangs beginning to bare, Willow stepped between them.
“Okay! I think we know who isn’t going to pair off! Xander and I can go together, and each of you can go by yourselves, alrighty? No more scary teeth or angry eyebrows at each other. Buffy first, growlies later.”
Angel and Spike slowly nodded and Willow grinned.
“Good! So, if you don’t find anything in your room, we’ll meet back here. Okay?”
Xander suppressed the urge to let out a “Go Team!” war cry, and followed Willow through the center door.
“Lead the way Captain!”
Angel glared at Spike before entering his door, with Spike shrugging as he passed through the large red door before him. He could smell Buffy’s scent so strongly down this hallway, he was almost intoxicated, but a strange secondary scent mixing with hers kept him focused. He had sensed it, however faintly, on the book he now clutched against his chest. He had never smelled a scent so strange, but familiar at the same time.
The hallway was long and straight, ending in another broad, red door. Before he could reach for the knob, it came flying toward him with great force. He managed to moan one word as he fell onto the cold concrete floor.
“Buffy?”
Oh man…what happened?
Squinting through the haze around her, she saw an almost angelic face in front of her.
“Spike?”
“No, dear. Sorry. But you’ll soon see that I’m a better man.”
Buffy shook the haze from her eyes, and fixed her gaze on the man standing in front of her. He was tall, with very light brown hair and dark blue eyes…he was as handsome as a man could get, but had a distinctly creepy air about him.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Well, I’ve had many names throughout the years, but it’s usually just ‘The Immortal,’ dear.”
She frowned at him and tried to attack, but realized that she was held back, and strapped to a wall.
“What do you want with me? I’m not the Slayer anymore. I’m done. I gave up.”
The Immortal smiled evilly.
“That’s not the point, dear. You can’t give up being the Slayer. Anyway, I’ve always had a thing for Angelus’ women…especially the ones who had some kicks with your William…er…‘Spike,’ as you call him.”
Buffy struggled against the restraints he had wrapped around her wrists and ankles.
“You sick piece of shit! I’ve never…uh…I’m not Angel’s woman.”
The Immortal shrugged and continued.
“Well, when I heard that Angelus had a Slayer, and after he went back to his evil ways, she ran into William’s waiting arms, I simply couldn’t resist you! There’s always something special about the women that the two of them fall for; Darla…Drusilla…and you. All strong, beautiful, and dark.”
“I’m not dark. I’m not anything anymore…so can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I’m afraid not my dear, but really, I never expected this….”
The Immortal pointed to her protruding belly, no longer hidden by Spike’s duster, which now lay crumpled on the floor.
“There's no avoiding me now, dear. You have, how would you put it, a double whammy? Angelus' cast off pregnant with William's child? It is so...perfect.”
Buffy’s face began to turn a bright shade of red in rage.
“How do you even know if it’s Spike’s?”
"I can sense things dear. You learn to do that when you’re…well, immortal," he chuckled at his own joke and continued, “that thing you’re carrying isn’t human. It’s half vampire. Who did you sign a deal with to get that to happen, hmm? It’s all but impossible, you know.”
“I didn’t do anything. Please, just let us go, alright? I’ll pay you whatever you want, and I promise I won’t kill you, okay? I just want to be left alone!”
“Immortal, dear. Death threats don’t work on me. But, you see, this isn’t even about you anymore, really. I’ve always wanted an immortal child to rear, but the women I choose seem to meet unfortunate ends, or just can’t have children. But this…”
He grazed a long fingernail across her belly, ignoring her screams and feverish jerks.
“This child is already immortal…I’ll raise…”
The Immortal stopped suddenly and started chuckling. Buffy was still furious, but was intrigued at his laughter.
“What’s so hilarious? I could really use a good joke right about now.”
“Oh nothing. Please, make yourself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you can be. Now, you should learn to be respectful to your elders...then you won't be chained to a wall. Just for future reference. But don't fret my dear one, the kids will be fine. I’ll see you in a while. Rest up for me, dear. You’re going to need your energy later.”
He turned and strutted out of the room, leaving Buffy hanging against the wall.
What’d he mean by ‘kids?’
--
“I just want your extra time and your…*smooch smooch smooch smooch smooch* kiss!”
Willow sang along with the radio softly as Xander snored on the seat next to her. Angel cleared his throat and shut off the radio as they pulled into the motel’s parking lot.
“Well, here goes nothing,” he said.
Willow shook Xander’s shoulder to rouse him.
“Huh? What? Giraffe toast…what?”
“Wake up, we’re here! How is Mr. Giraffe by the way?”
“He’s good…hey…how did you…no voodoo mind reading right Will?”
“Nope. Just the normal kind.”
Xander’s eye bulged out and Willow smiled.
“You still talk in your sleep dummy.”
“Ah…I thought I grew outta that.”
“Shh!”
Spike silenced them as he climbed out of the car. He sniffed the air around them and ran toward the front of the motel. Stopping at the cracked sidewalk, he bent down and grabbed Buffy’s book of British poetry. He sniffed it.
“Buffy.”
Angel was close enough behind him to hear him, and looked around in vain.
“Well, where is she?”
Spike flipped through the pages of the large book, stopping briefly on the marked poem of “anonymous.” Had he been human, he would have been blushing, but since he lacked the ability, only looked back and forth quickly. He shut the book, and looked at Angel.
“Huh?”
“Buffy. You said her name. Is she close? Is that her book?”
Spike nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s hers alright. Got her name scribbled on the front cover and all that. It was still warm…I can feel her on it. She can’t have been gone for too long.”
Willow and Xander finally caught up to the vampires. Xander turned to Spike and pointed at the book.
“Is that Buffy’s?”
“Yeah,” Spike replied.
Willow smiled.
“I never knew she liked poetry.”
Spike raised an eyebrow as he sniffed the air.
“She doesn’t. She’s this way. Better not take the car…they might hear us coming...she isn’t far anyway. Her scent is strong…and she’s frightened.”
--
“Spike? Could you stay here?”
“Sure. That diabolical torture device, the comfy chair. Do me fine.”
"No…I mean…here. Will you just hold me?”
Buffy could swear that she felt Spike’s strong arms surrounding her. She realized, of course, that they weren't. She groggily tried to pull at the chains holding her to the wall, and, to her surprise, they loosened slightly.
With a few more tugs, Buffy heard the wall behind her begin to give. Heavy footsteps clicked outside of the red doorway, and Buffy pushed back against the wall as best she could, holding it, and herself, in place. The Immortal slinked into the room, molesting her form with his eyes. His smarmy European look made Buffy want to vomit and kick his ass all at the same time.
Wait for it girl…wait for your opportunity.
“So how is Miss Buffy feeling now? All rested up I trust?”
Buffy frowned, but held her tongue as he continued to strut back and forth in front of her.
“I thought we may have a little fun tonight…I can tell that it’s been quite a long time for you Miss Buffy...but don't worry. I'll be gentle.”
The Immortal reached his long fingers toward Buffy’s torso. He didn’t reach even the hem of her blouse before the wall crashed down on him.
“Don’t touch me,” she said to the pile of rubble in front of her.
--
Spike and Angel walked around the small warehouse.
“She’s in here somewhere…”
“Great. So how do we get in there, Spike?”
Angel jumped back as Spike’s answer came soaring and crashing through the warehouse’s window.
“Without being noticed Spike!”
When no alarms sounded and no henchmen appeared, Spike smiled.
“Don’t think anyone noticed Poofter.”
Willow and Xander wandered around the side of the building, distraught looks on their faces.
“I couldn’t find a way in,” Willow began, before noticing the broken glass around their feet. She smiled broadly. “But I guess you guys took care of that!”
The group slowly climbed through the broken window into a large and dimly lit room. Spike lead them to the other side of the room, where three doors stood in a row.
Xander turned to Spike and feigned a salute.
“So what’s the plan Captain Peroxide?”
Spike scoffed and Angel growled.
“Why’s Spike in charge all of a sudden?”
“What makes you so sure you should be in charge, eh? Oooh look at me, I’m Angel I have gelled hair and a large forehead, so everyone should follow me! Piss off!”
As the two vampires moved toward each other, fangs beginning to bare, Willow stepped between them.
“Okay! I think we know who isn’t going to pair off! Xander and I can go together, and each of you can go by yourselves, alrighty? No more scary teeth or angry eyebrows at each other. Buffy first, growlies later.”
Angel and Spike slowly nodded and Willow grinned.
“Good! So, if you don’t find anything in your room, we’ll meet back here. Okay?”
Xander suppressed the urge to let out a “Go Team!” war cry, and followed Willow through the center door.
“Lead the way Captain!”
Angel glared at Spike before entering his door, with Spike shrugging as he passed through the large red door before him. He could smell Buffy’s scent so strongly down this hallway, he was almost intoxicated, but a strange secondary scent mixing with hers kept him focused. He had sensed it, however faintly, on the book he now clutched against his chest. He had never smelled a scent so strange, but familiar at the same time.
The hallway was long and straight, ending in another broad, red door. Before he could reach for the knob, it came flying toward him with great force. He managed to moan one word as he fell onto the cold concrete floor.
“Buffy?”
Cue the Fight Scene!
Buffy could swear she heard her name as she kicked the door from its hinges. A pair of black boots sticking out from underneath it told her that someone, indeed had called out her name…or something that sounded like her name.
“Sodding door,” Spike yelled, pushing the panel off of him. “Always a sodding…”
Buffy’s eyes widened to saucer plates as their eyes met.
“Buffy,” he breathed her name like a prayer.
Their brief moment of awe was shattered when Buffy landed a fist into Spike’s gut.
“Who are you?”
“Buffy! Ow! Love, it’s me!”
“No….you’re gone…he’s gone. And I know you aren’t The First, because I can punch you...which I'm planning to do again! So who are you? And how dare you take his form?”
Spike frowned and stood, deflecting another blow aimed at his face.
“Buffy, pet, it’s me.”
Her eyes, already wet with tears flooded over when she gazed into his cool blue pools.
“Oh god…Spike!”
She fell into his arms, her face buried in his shoulder. He enveloped her in his strong arms, as he had done before, but now her grip on his back was tight and fevered, though, no matter how she tugged, something still separated them.
Spike stepped back, pulling away from the Slayer’s grip, to stare at her. She was different…so different now. Her sad eyes spoke the pain that she never would've admitted to when he last saw her. Her hair was disheveled, and her lips were chapped from thirst.
Her face was rounder and fuller. He had always hated when his Slayer was too thin, but she had gained a substantial amount of weight since he had last seen her, he thought, as his eyes traveled down her neck and chest. His gaze faltered on her protruding belly.
“Buffy…you’re…”
She blinked away unbelieving tears and nodded.
“Yeah.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah…”
Spike’s awed expression hardened and he straightened himself up.
“Ah. Right then. Who’s the lucky bloke?”
Buffy frowned.
“Well I wouldn’t call you lucky, but you are a dope.”
“I said ‘bloke.’”
“Same thing.”
“Buffy, I’m no sodding idiot, vamps can’t have children that way.”
“I know…but it wasn’t even mostly the sex part of it…”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s…uhh…okay, don’t laugh at me. Promise?”
“On my honor.”
“I need something more than that Spike. We both know how your honor can be.”
He chuckled and raised his right hand.
“Promise. Now go on.”
“Right. Okay, so a few nights after you had…” Buffy’s voice faded slightly and she wiped her eyes. “…after you died I had a Slayer dream.”
“Right…heard of those. Jim Morrison this time?”
She smiled.
“No…it was weird…it was Anya.”
Spike’s expression changed again, softening and flashing with comprehension, and he chuckled lowly.
“Anya.”
“You said you weren’t going to make fun…”
“ ‘m not pet. What’d the bird say?”
“She said because of your sacrifice, The Powers That Be wanted to give you a gift…but they hadn’t planned on me grabbing your hand like I did right before…before what happened. I guess I muddled up the plans for a bit, because they said you wouldn’t get
your reward because of what I did…they said you wouldn’t have your gift until the baby…Anyway, Anya told me that I got a surge of power from you while you had that gem on, and it made your sperm take. It gave them some kind of electric jolt, and woke them up or something. So here I am…pregnant…in stylish yet affordable boots.”
Buffy looked up at Spike, waiting for him to reply. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to himself, and gently kissed her chapped lips with his own. He pulled away, smiling.
“Buffy, love…you’ll never believe it, but Anya did the same thing to me.”
“Wait, what? How? When?”
“When I died, I think I was in whatever place you had been…it was beautiful Buffy…just like you described it. And I was warm for the first time in a century…I…”
Spike noticed the distraught look on her face and brushed her cheek with his fingers.
“But all I wanted was you, pet. Without you, heaven in’t any better than hanging around the Poofter.”
She smiled.
“So what happened?”
“Well, there I was floating around ‘n minding my own business when I notice that awful necklace is around my neck and I’m stark naked,” he smiled when her eyes lit up at his statement. “So I float around s’more and I hear Anya say hullo. I turned around and a bunch of blokes were staring at me and they all started asking about you. Anya said she pulled some strings or something and I could have one wish, and I told her I wanted to come back to you. She said I’d earned it, and mentioned some surprise, but I didn’t realize it’d be so…”
“Surprising?”
“Yeah, that ‘bout covers it.”
“Trust me, I didn’t expect it either.”
Buffy and Spike stood staring at each other, their eyes browsing every line, dimple and curve on their bodies. He put an arm around her shoulders and his other hand across her belly.
“So, how long have you…”
“About six months. I started wondering what was going on a couple of weeks after…and I was all alone,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Everyone just…I mean, they were there, but they couldn’t be there because I couldn’t tell them, you know? And I…all I wanted was you Spike.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, Buffy nuzzled him with her tear-stained face. She choked back more tears that threatened to fall as he gently pet her hair.
“ ‘S alright love. ‘m here now, yeah?”
She stepped back and nodded, wiping her nose and eyes on her sleeve. He bit his lip as he looked at her.
“Buffy?”
“What?”
“Did you mean it?”
“Did I mean what?”
“When I…right before I died. What you said. Did you really mean it?”
She scoffed.
“You’re being shirty.”
"No ‘m not, pet. Just humor me. Did you mean it?”
Spike deflected the punch that Buffy half-heartedly threw at his chest. She grabbed his hand as he deflected her blow and held it tightly.
“Of course I meant it…I’ve meant it every day for the past year. It was losing you that made me…”
“Realize it?”
“No…it just made me accept it. I wasn’t afraid of it anymore, you know?”
“Because you knew you were going to lose me? Buffy that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Not because I was going to lose you, I just…I accepted it because in that moment I knew it wasn’t over. I knew that I'd be with you, somewhere...even if I had to die to do it. I couldn’t let myself accept it if I didn’t think that there was something else. That happened with Angel, and I learned my lesson there. It was…uhh…Anya explained it better.”
“She explained what?”
“Well, when I was still in LA with everyone, I went into this little bookstore. I missed your voice so much I wanted something to remind me of you, and I found this big book of British poetry and when I picked it up, I read this poem. It sounded so much like you, I just started sobbing in the store, and then I heard a voice from behind me say, ‘Don’t cry Buffy!’ I turned around, and it was Anya, and we weren’t in the bookstore anymore, but I still had the book...which I lost. Dammit!”
Spike grinned and walked over to the broken down door, and grabbed the book from underneath it.
“This one love?”
Buffy gasped.
“How did you…?”
“Never mind that now. Just keep going.”
“Right. Well after Anya explained the whole pregnancy thing, she grabbed the book and read that page aloud. She said with it, you’d be able to find me…I thought she meant when I died or something, but I guess…yeah. Well, she never explained it to me, and she just shoo-ed me out of there. I never went back to Angel’s office after that. I just kept driving until I wound up here.”
“How’d you pay for all of it Buffy? It’s not cheap to go across country…”
“Insurance from the house.”
Spike smiled slightly and rubbed her arm.
“You’ve been through too much kid.”
“Yeah, but it’s part of the job isn’t it?”
A loud crumble and a guttural howl echoed through the hallway.
“What the…?”
“We’ve go to go,” Buffy said, grabbing Spike’s hand, “NOW!”
With another growl, it was too late. The Immortal stalked into the hallway. Spike raised a scarred eyebrow.
“YOU!”
--
Angel tapped his foot impatiently. He crossed his arms and huffed, but his ears perked as he heard a doorknob turn. Xander tumbled out of the door, and jumped up quickly.
“Heavy door.”
Willow walked out after him, shaking her head.
“You know I could have zapped it open, right?”
“Got it Will. I can handle a door. Still manly without both eyes.”
“Sorry…hey, where’s Spike?”
Angel sighed.
“He isn’t back yet. I’ve been waiting forever.”
He pointed at the door he had chosen.
“Mine was a big closet.”
Willow smiled meekly.
“Should we go after him then? Maybe he found something?”
A loud howl cut through the air. Willow and Angel locked eyes and ran for the large, red door, with Xander following closely behind them. As they ran down the hall, they could hear the sounds of an epic battle threatening to commence, and two creatures growling at each other.
They were overwhelmingly unprepared for the sight they were greeted with. A very pregnant Buffy was standing a few feet behind Spike, whose vampire face was displayed.
It was strange to see the powerful Slayer being protected by a vampire, but Angel could see the metaphysical connection Spike and Buffy shared, that was invisible to the others. Angel could see a pale red light glowing on both of their hearts…Spike hadn’t claimed her yet, or the light would be almost blindingly brilliant. Angel had only seen four vampires who had mated, and because of their light’s brilliance, the majority of other creatures left them to their own company. But if Spike hadn’t claimed her yet, then there was still time, Angel told himself…he could still have Buffy, pregnant or not…the deep voice of one of The Powers That Be echoed in his mind.
Don’t even try Angelus. We warned you. You have found her…and lost her.
Angel dropped his head into his hands and let out a painful sigh. Luckily for him, everyone was so entranced by the spectacle Spike, Buffy and The Immortal were creating, that no one noticed his exasperated noises. Xander turned to Willow.
“Is it just my eye or does Buffy look…”
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah. Good. I still got it.”
“I don’t think now’s the best time to talk about it though Xan.”
“Right. So who’s that guy?”
Angel gulped an unnecessary breath of air.
“That’s The Immortal.”
Xander laughed, “Oh so what, ‘That Guy,’ or ‘Mr. Vampire’ were already taken?”
Angel scowled at him, but Xander refused to relent.
“Seriously though…It’s not a very catchy name.”
--
The Immortal and Spike had yet to attack one another. Spike eyed up his rival.
“What do you want from her?”
“You should know that already, William. But she wasn’t as easy as your Drusilla was…so I suppose I’ll just take the children and be on my way then.”
“Sorry bloke, can’t let you do that.”
“Oh…wrong answer William. It was nice seeing you again though….”
As The Immortal lunged at Spike, Willow gasped and, in a panic, shouted loudly.
“Eleka kom minus althkzaran!”
Spike stood, ready to defend himself, but instead of an attacker, he was struck by what seemed like a small pebble.
“Ow! What the…?”
Willow began to blush when the pebble started talking, screaming, and attacking Spike’s boot. Buffy gave a relieved sigh.
“Willow…what did you do to him?”
“Well…Angel said he was The Immortal, and I thought, okay, you can’t kill someone who’s immortal, but no one said you can’t change stuff about them so…”
“So?”
“So I panicked and all I could think about was the mini pizzas I’d had for dinner yesterday, so I shrunk him.”
Spike smiled broadly.
“I could kiss you witchling.”
Buffy smacked his stomach.
“Not on your unlife, buster. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a little unfinished business to deal with.”
Buffy leaned down and picked The mini-Immortal up, pinching his coat between her fingers.
“Will, this won’t wear off will it?”
“Nope…Only I can fix it, but I really don’t feel like it….”
Buffy smiled and walked into the small room The Immortal had trapped her in that night. She set him down in a dusty corner of the room and placed a heavy glass over him.
“Don’t ever come near me or my family again! Though I really doubt you’ll get the chance. You should really listen when someone says ‘no.’”
Buffy turned on her heels, grabbed Spike’s duster, and glided out of the room, leaving the pea-sized Immortal screaming his tiny head off in agony and defeat.
“Sodding door,” Spike yelled, pushing the panel off of him. “Always a sodding…”
Buffy’s eyes widened to saucer plates as their eyes met.
“Buffy,” he breathed her name like a prayer.
Their brief moment of awe was shattered when Buffy landed a fist into Spike’s gut.
“Who are you?”
“Buffy! Ow! Love, it’s me!”
“No….you’re gone…he’s gone. And I know you aren’t The First, because I can punch you...which I'm planning to do again! So who are you? And how dare you take his form?”
Spike frowned and stood, deflecting another blow aimed at his face.
“Buffy, pet, it’s me.”
Her eyes, already wet with tears flooded over when she gazed into his cool blue pools.
“Oh god…Spike!”
She fell into his arms, her face buried in his shoulder. He enveloped her in his strong arms, as he had done before, but now her grip on his back was tight and fevered, though, no matter how she tugged, something still separated them.
Spike stepped back, pulling away from the Slayer’s grip, to stare at her. She was different…so different now. Her sad eyes spoke the pain that she never would've admitted to when he last saw her. Her hair was disheveled, and her lips were chapped from thirst.
Her face was rounder and fuller. He had always hated when his Slayer was too thin, but she had gained a substantial amount of weight since he had last seen her, he thought, as his eyes traveled down her neck and chest. His gaze faltered on her protruding belly.
“Buffy…you’re…”
She blinked away unbelieving tears and nodded.
“Yeah.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yeah…”
Spike’s awed expression hardened and he straightened himself up.
“Ah. Right then. Who’s the lucky bloke?”
Buffy frowned.
“Well I wouldn’t call you lucky, but you are a dope.”
“I said ‘bloke.’”
“Same thing.”
“Buffy, I’m no sodding idiot, vamps can’t have children that way.”
“I know…but it wasn’t even mostly the sex part of it…”
“I don’t follow.”
“It’s…uhh…okay, don’t laugh at me. Promise?”
“On my honor.”
“I need something more than that Spike. We both know how your honor can be.”
He chuckled and raised his right hand.
“Promise. Now go on.”
“Right. Okay, so a few nights after you had…” Buffy’s voice faded slightly and she wiped her eyes. “…after you died I had a Slayer dream.”
“Right…heard of those. Jim Morrison this time?”
She smiled.
“No…it was weird…it was Anya.”
Spike’s expression changed again, softening and flashing with comprehension, and he chuckled lowly.
“Anya.”
“You said you weren’t going to make fun…”
“ ‘m not pet. What’d the bird say?”
“She said because of your sacrifice, The Powers That Be wanted to give you a gift…but they hadn’t planned on me grabbing your hand like I did right before…before what happened. I guess I muddled up the plans for a bit, because they said you wouldn’t get
your reward because of what I did…they said you wouldn’t have your gift until the baby…Anyway, Anya told me that I got a surge of power from you while you had that gem on, and it made your sperm take. It gave them some kind of electric jolt, and woke them up or something. So here I am…pregnant…in stylish yet affordable boots.”
Buffy looked up at Spike, waiting for him to reply. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to himself, and gently kissed her chapped lips with his own. He pulled away, smiling.
“Buffy, love…you’ll never believe it, but Anya did the same thing to me.”
“Wait, what? How? When?”
“When I died, I think I was in whatever place you had been…it was beautiful Buffy…just like you described it. And I was warm for the first time in a century…I…”
Spike noticed the distraught look on her face and brushed her cheek with his fingers.
“But all I wanted was you, pet. Without you, heaven in’t any better than hanging around the Poofter.”
She smiled.
“So what happened?”
“Well, there I was floating around ‘n minding my own business when I notice that awful necklace is around my neck and I’m stark naked,” he smiled when her eyes lit up at his statement. “So I float around s’more and I hear Anya say hullo. I turned around and a bunch of blokes were staring at me and they all started asking about you. Anya said she pulled some strings or something and I could have one wish, and I told her I wanted to come back to you. She said I’d earned it, and mentioned some surprise, but I didn’t realize it’d be so…”
“Surprising?”
“Yeah, that ‘bout covers it.”
“Trust me, I didn’t expect it either.”
Buffy and Spike stood staring at each other, their eyes browsing every line, dimple and curve on their bodies. He put an arm around her shoulders and his other hand across her belly.
“So, how long have you…”
“About six months. I started wondering what was going on a couple of weeks after…and I was all alone,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “Everyone just…I mean, they were there, but they couldn’t be there because I couldn’t tell them, you know? And I…all I wanted was you Spike.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, Buffy nuzzled him with her tear-stained face. She choked back more tears that threatened to fall as he gently pet her hair.
“ ‘S alright love. ‘m here now, yeah?”
She stepped back and nodded, wiping her nose and eyes on her sleeve. He bit his lip as he looked at her.
“Buffy?”
“What?”
“Did you mean it?”
“Did I mean what?”
“When I…right before I died. What you said. Did you really mean it?”
She scoffed.
“You’re being shirty.”
"No ‘m not, pet. Just humor me. Did you mean it?”
Spike deflected the punch that Buffy half-heartedly threw at his chest. She grabbed his hand as he deflected her blow and held it tightly.
“Of course I meant it…I’ve meant it every day for the past year. It was losing you that made me…”
“Realize it?”
“No…it just made me accept it. I wasn’t afraid of it anymore, you know?”
“Because you knew you were going to lose me? Buffy that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Not because I was going to lose you, I just…I accepted it because in that moment I knew it wasn’t over. I knew that I'd be with you, somewhere...even if I had to die to do it. I couldn’t let myself accept it if I didn’t think that there was something else. That happened with Angel, and I learned my lesson there. It was…uhh…Anya explained it better.”
“She explained what?”
“Well, when I was still in LA with everyone, I went into this little bookstore. I missed your voice so much I wanted something to remind me of you, and I found this big book of British poetry and when I picked it up, I read this poem. It sounded so much like you, I just started sobbing in the store, and then I heard a voice from behind me say, ‘Don’t cry Buffy!’ I turned around, and it was Anya, and we weren’t in the bookstore anymore, but I still had the book...which I lost. Dammit!”
Spike grinned and walked over to the broken down door, and grabbed the book from underneath it.
“This one love?”
Buffy gasped.
“How did you…?”
“Never mind that now. Just keep going.”
“Right. Well after Anya explained the whole pregnancy thing, she grabbed the book and read that page aloud. She said with it, you’d be able to find me…I thought she meant when I died or something, but I guess…yeah. Well, she never explained it to me, and she just shoo-ed me out of there. I never went back to Angel’s office after that. I just kept driving until I wound up here.”
“How’d you pay for all of it Buffy? It’s not cheap to go across country…”
“Insurance from the house.”
Spike smiled slightly and rubbed her arm.
“You’ve been through too much kid.”
“Yeah, but it’s part of the job isn’t it?”
A loud crumble and a guttural howl echoed through the hallway.
“What the…?”
“We’ve go to go,” Buffy said, grabbing Spike’s hand, “NOW!”
With another growl, it was too late. The Immortal stalked into the hallway. Spike raised a scarred eyebrow.
“YOU!”
--
Angel tapped his foot impatiently. He crossed his arms and huffed, but his ears perked as he heard a doorknob turn. Xander tumbled out of the door, and jumped up quickly.
“Heavy door.”
Willow walked out after him, shaking her head.
“You know I could have zapped it open, right?”
“Got it Will. I can handle a door. Still manly without both eyes.”
“Sorry…hey, where’s Spike?”
Angel sighed.
“He isn’t back yet. I’ve been waiting forever.”
He pointed at the door he had chosen.
“Mine was a big closet.”
Willow smiled meekly.
“Should we go after him then? Maybe he found something?”
A loud howl cut through the air. Willow and Angel locked eyes and ran for the large, red door, with Xander following closely behind them. As they ran down the hall, they could hear the sounds of an epic battle threatening to commence, and two creatures growling at each other.
They were overwhelmingly unprepared for the sight they were greeted with. A very pregnant Buffy was standing a few feet behind Spike, whose vampire face was displayed.
It was strange to see the powerful Slayer being protected by a vampire, but Angel could see the metaphysical connection Spike and Buffy shared, that was invisible to the others. Angel could see a pale red light glowing on both of their hearts…Spike hadn’t claimed her yet, or the light would be almost blindingly brilliant. Angel had only seen four vampires who had mated, and because of their light’s brilliance, the majority of other creatures left them to their own company. But if Spike hadn’t claimed her yet, then there was still time, Angel told himself…he could still have Buffy, pregnant or not…the deep voice of one of The Powers That Be echoed in his mind.
Don’t even try Angelus. We warned you. You have found her…and lost her.
Angel dropped his head into his hands and let out a painful sigh. Luckily for him, everyone was so entranced by the spectacle Spike, Buffy and The Immortal were creating, that no one noticed his exasperated noises. Xander turned to Willow.
“Is it just my eye or does Buffy look…”
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah. Good. I still got it.”
“I don’t think now’s the best time to talk about it though Xan.”
“Right. So who’s that guy?”
Angel gulped an unnecessary breath of air.
“That’s The Immortal.”
Xander laughed, “Oh so what, ‘That Guy,’ or ‘Mr. Vampire’ were already taken?”
Angel scowled at him, but Xander refused to relent.
“Seriously though…It’s not a very catchy name.”
--
The Immortal and Spike had yet to attack one another. Spike eyed up his rival.
“What do you want from her?”
“You should know that already, William. But she wasn’t as easy as your Drusilla was…so I suppose I’ll just take the children and be on my way then.”
“Sorry bloke, can’t let you do that.”
“Oh…wrong answer William. It was nice seeing you again though….”
As The Immortal lunged at Spike, Willow gasped and, in a panic, shouted loudly.
“Eleka kom minus althkzaran!”
Spike stood, ready to defend himself, but instead of an attacker, he was struck by what seemed like a small pebble.
“Ow! What the…?”
Willow began to blush when the pebble started talking, screaming, and attacking Spike’s boot. Buffy gave a relieved sigh.
“Willow…what did you do to him?”
“Well…Angel said he was The Immortal, and I thought, okay, you can’t kill someone who’s immortal, but no one said you can’t change stuff about them so…”
“So?”
“So I panicked and all I could think about was the mini pizzas I’d had for dinner yesterday, so I shrunk him.”
Spike smiled broadly.
“I could kiss you witchling.”
Buffy smacked his stomach.
“Not on your unlife, buster. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a little unfinished business to deal with.”
Buffy leaned down and picked The mini-Immortal up, pinching his coat between her fingers.
“Will, this won’t wear off will it?”
“Nope…Only I can fix it, but I really don’t feel like it….”
Buffy smiled and walked into the small room The Immortal had trapped her in that night. She set him down in a dusty corner of the room and placed a heavy glass over him.
“Don’t ever come near me or my family again! Though I really doubt you’ll get the chance. You should really listen when someone says ‘no.’”
Buffy turned on her heels, grabbed Spike’s duster, and glided out of the room, leaving the pea-sized Immortal screaming his tiny head off in agony and defeat.
For the Third Time....
“So it was like electroshock for your….”
“Right.”
“…and that’s how she got…”
“Right.”
“…but, then you guys had to…”
“Gods, bloke! Do I have to spell it out for you?”
Xander shrugged at Spike.
"Sorry Captain Peroxide….I just haven’t read up on my one-in-a-million pregnancy rituals in a while.”
Buffy entered the hallway and sat on the pile of rubble next to Spike.
“Can we go now? I’m really tired guys…and my tummy is getting all rumbly.”
Willow moved to Buffy’s side.
“Are you okay? You don’t look well…”
“I…I’m okay…I just need to sit down for a while, get my wind back, you know?”
As Buffy took a deep breath and rested her head between her small, dirty hands, she jerked and bent forward in pain. She cried out and Spike grabbed her back, holding her steady. But even his strength couldn’t stop the inevitable. A burst of liquid fell from Buffy and covered the floor beneath her. She moaned in distress, and Willow kneeled in front of her.
“Ohhh no. Spike, help me lay her down over here.”
Spike took his duster from Buffy’s grip and laid it down on a rubble-free area of the hallway, before gently helping Buffy to the floor.
“You comfortable, pet?”
She grimaced.
“Yeah…I’m great. No cushy hospital bed or epidural for me. The floor is great. So comfy!”
Spike smiled and caressed the side of her face. He stood up and turned to Willow.
“What can I do for her?”
“Well…I’ve never delivered a baby before…let alone a half-vampire baby, so…I…I don’t really know exactly…um…just make her as comfortable as possible I guess….Babies have a tendency to kind of deliver themselves.”
Buffy laughed sarcastically, and Spike knelt down beside her.
“It’s coming now, yeah?”
She nodded.
“Yeah. I guess half vamps don’t need the full nine months….”
“Buffy?”
“What?”
“I know now’s not the best timing….”
“When did we ever do anything with good timing?”
He smiled.
“Buffy, love…I just wanted to ask you to promise me something.”
“Sure…but can you hurry up, please? I’m trying to push your baby out of me.”
“We have to be alone sometime by the end of the week…”
“Spike, I’m not getting started on baby round two just yet…”
“No…not for that, not that I wouldn’t love to, mind you, it’s just….”
Buffy moaned loudly.
“Oh god! Please, Spike, hurry up so I can concentrate okay?”
“It’s just something Anya said before she sent me back…kind of a stipulation….”
“Fine, we’ll do whatever it is…I trust you.”
“Pet, it’s not that simple…it’s something we have to do that’s kind of…well…”
Angel, who had been brooding in the corner, silently, had finally had enough.
“God! Just spit it out already! I can’t take it anymore! This is ridiculous!”
Spike scowled at him before turning back to Buffy.
“Buffy, she said that before the week was out, I’d have to claim you, or I’d be sent back to heaven, or wherever the hell I was.”
Angel’s face turned even paler than it normally was, and both Willow and Buffy looked at him, quizzically.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…Buffy, pet, it means that we’ll be mated for life…or unlife. It’ll give us this special connection thing…it’s like marriage, only it’s normally for vampires…when I was with Dru….”
Buffy frowned.
"Who is exactly the person I want to hear about while I'm pushing your child out of me."
“Buffy…when I was with her, I tried, but she wouldn’t let me…she didn’t want the stigma that went with it…it gives special powers to the vampires involved...it's some weird power that vampires and other demons can sense....”
“But I’m not a vampire.”
“Yeah, I know, and usually only vamps do it, but Anya said it'll work about the same way, especially since you’re the Slayer and all. It’ll make us more powerful.”
“How’s that possible?”
“Well…we’ll have double the power that we have now…I’ll gain all of the Slayer strengths and you’ll gain all of my vamp strengths…and we’ll be able to sense each other, and talk telekinetically or some shit.”
Angel pushed his way into the group, yet again.
“And the weaknesses? Don’t forget those Spike…you’ll never be able to be alone again Buffy. He’ll always be there…thinking with you, knowing what you’re thinking, intruding on every thought you have…and you’ll turn evil…you will. You think he has trouble controlling his evil side? Just wait till he has your power…you’ll both turn evil…you’ll lose yourself. That’s why there aren’t any vampires who mate anymore. No one wants that kind of intrusion.”
“Shut it Poofter! Leave her alone, it’s her decision, not yours!”
While Angel and Spike were eyeing each other up and growling, Willow was tending to Buffy, who was straining in labor.
“Oh god, Buffy, I think I can see the head…okay, push again? You know this really isn't fair, Buffy. Most women have hours or days of labor...geez, must be nice.”
Buffy cringed in pain and stress and glared at Willow.
"Oh yeah, I feel soo lucky Willow!"
Spike broke his stare with Angel to kneel back down beside Buffy.
“It’s coming now?”
Buffy nodded and cried out as she pushed. A loud wail came from Willow’s hands, as she cupped the small, red child. After cutting the child free from the umbilical cord, Willow took off her sweater and wiped the child clean with it. Spike stared in awe at his child, and looked at Willow.
“It’s a girl,” she said, handing the tiny baby to him.
Buffy moaned again.
“Willow, if she’s out, why does it still hurt so much?”
Willow’s eyes widened as she noticed another head emerging.
“Oh god, Buffy…its…its….”
“What???”
“It’s twins!”
--
Another hour and a half later, Buffy was being carried to Angel’s car in a shirtless Spike’s arms. Willow cradled the tiny newborn girl, wrapped in her father’s t-shirt, just as an equally shirtless Xander held a t-shirted newborn boy in his arms. Angel drove slowly back to Buffy’s hotel with the heater on.
Surprisingly, the newborns only fussed when out of their parent’s arms. An exhausted Buffy stared lovingly at her son and daughter, each being held in their father’s strong arms. She began to drift off into the first few minutes of sleep she had had in days. For the first time in six months, there were no nightmares.
“Right.”
“…and that’s how she got…”
“Right.”
“…but, then you guys had to…”
“Gods, bloke! Do I have to spell it out for you?”
Xander shrugged at Spike.
"Sorry Captain Peroxide….I just haven’t read up on my one-in-a-million pregnancy rituals in a while.”
Buffy entered the hallway and sat on the pile of rubble next to Spike.
“Can we go now? I’m really tired guys…and my tummy is getting all rumbly.”
Willow moved to Buffy’s side.
“Are you okay? You don’t look well…”
“I…I’m okay…I just need to sit down for a while, get my wind back, you know?”
As Buffy took a deep breath and rested her head between her small, dirty hands, she jerked and bent forward in pain. She cried out and Spike grabbed her back, holding her steady. But even his strength couldn’t stop the inevitable. A burst of liquid fell from Buffy and covered the floor beneath her. She moaned in distress, and Willow kneeled in front of her.
“Ohhh no. Spike, help me lay her down over here.”
Spike took his duster from Buffy’s grip and laid it down on a rubble-free area of the hallway, before gently helping Buffy to the floor.
“You comfortable, pet?”
She grimaced.
“Yeah…I’m great. No cushy hospital bed or epidural for me. The floor is great. So comfy!”
Spike smiled and caressed the side of her face. He stood up and turned to Willow.
“What can I do for her?”
“Well…I’ve never delivered a baby before…let alone a half-vampire baby, so…I…I don’t really know exactly…um…just make her as comfortable as possible I guess….Babies have a tendency to kind of deliver themselves.”
Buffy laughed sarcastically, and Spike knelt down beside her.
“It’s coming now, yeah?”
She nodded.
“Yeah. I guess half vamps don’t need the full nine months….”
“Buffy?”
“What?”
“I know now’s not the best timing….”
“When did we ever do anything with good timing?”
He smiled.
“Buffy, love…I just wanted to ask you to promise me something.”
“Sure…but can you hurry up, please? I’m trying to push your baby out of me.”
“We have to be alone sometime by the end of the week…”
“Spike, I’m not getting started on baby round two just yet…”
“No…not for that, not that I wouldn’t love to, mind you, it’s just….”
Buffy moaned loudly.
“Oh god! Please, Spike, hurry up so I can concentrate okay?”
“It’s just something Anya said before she sent me back…kind of a stipulation….”
“Fine, we’ll do whatever it is…I trust you.”
“Pet, it’s not that simple…it’s something we have to do that’s kind of…well…”
Angel, who had been brooding in the corner, silently, had finally had enough.
“God! Just spit it out already! I can’t take it anymore! This is ridiculous!”
Spike scowled at him before turning back to Buffy.
“Buffy, she said that before the week was out, I’d have to claim you, or I’d be sent back to heaven, or wherever the hell I was.”
Angel’s face turned even paler than it normally was, and both Willow and Buffy looked at him, quizzically.
“What does that mean?”
“It means…Buffy, pet, it means that we’ll be mated for life…or unlife. It’ll give us this special connection thing…it’s like marriage, only it’s normally for vampires…when I was with Dru….”
Buffy frowned.
"Who is exactly the person I want to hear about while I'm pushing your child out of me."
“Buffy…when I was with her, I tried, but she wouldn’t let me…she didn’t want the stigma that went with it…it gives special powers to the vampires involved...it's some weird power that vampires and other demons can sense....”
“But I’m not a vampire.”
“Yeah, I know, and usually only vamps do it, but Anya said it'll work about the same way, especially since you’re the Slayer and all. It’ll make us more powerful.”
“How’s that possible?”
“Well…we’ll have double the power that we have now…I’ll gain all of the Slayer strengths and you’ll gain all of my vamp strengths…and we’ll be able to sense each other, and talk telekinetically or some shit.”
Angel pushed his way into the group, yet again.
“And the weaknesses? Don’t forget those Spike…you’ll never be able to be alone again Buffy. He’ll always be there…thinking with you, knowing what you’re thinking, intruding on every thought you have…and you’ll turn evil…you will. You think he has trouble controlling his evil side? Just wait till he has your power…you’ll both turn evil…you’ll lose yourself. That’s why there aren’t any vampires who mate anymore. No one wants that kind of intrusion.”
“Shut it Poofter! Leave her alone, it’s her decision, not yours!”
While Angel and Spike were eyeing each other up and growling, Willow was tending to Buffy, who was straining in labor.
“Oh god, Buffy, I think I can see the head…okay, push again? You know this really isn't fair, Buffy. Most women have hours or days of labor...geez, must be nice.”
Buffy cringed in pain and stress and glared at Willow.
"Oh yeah, I feel soo lucky Willow!"
Spike broke his stare with Angel to kneel back down beside Buffy.
“It’s coming now?”
Buffy nodded and cried out as she pushed. A loud wail came from Willow’s hands, as she cupped the small, red child. After cutting the child free from the umbilical cord, Willow took off her sweater and wiped the child clean with it. Spike stared in awe at his child, and looked at Willow.
“It’s a girl,” she said, handing the tiny baby to him.
Buffy moaned again.
“Willow, if she’s out, why does it still hurt so much?”
Willow’s eyes widened as she noticed another head emerging.
“Oh god, Buffy…its…its….”
“What???”
“It’s twins!”
--
Another hour and a half later, Buffy was being carried to Angel’s car in a shirtless Spike’s arms. Willow cradled the tiny newborn girl, wrapped in her father’s t-shirt, just as an equally shirtless Xander held a t-shirted newborn boy in his arms. Angel drove slowly back to Buffy’s hotel with the heater on.
Surprisingly, the newborns only fussed when out of their parent’s arms. An exhausted Buffy stared lovingly at her son and daughter, each being held in their father’s strong arms. She began to drift off into the first few minutes of sleep she had had in days. For the first time in six months, there were no nightmares.
What's in a Name?
Buffy awoke to a sensation of blissful relaxation. Blinking the dryness from her eyes, she gazed at a still shirtless Spike holding and massaging her right foot. Her left foot already felt kneaded and loose.
He must have already done that one, dummy.
He smiled broadly when he caught Buffy’s sleepy eyes.
“Well, g’morning Mommy.”
She cringed slightly.
"Spike…no. Not used to that yet…it’s a whole year or so before they’ll be able to say that, anyway. Right?”
He laughed.
"You’ve obviously never been around kids much have you, pet? No, they start that up pretty quickly. Six months at the most. And they always seem to say ‘Mama’ first.”
She tried to scowl at Spike, but broke out into an almost blindingly brilliant grin. He had never seen her so happy.
“Well, that’s how it should be.”
“Indeed, pet.”
Spike and Buffy sat in silence for minutes that seemed like years. Spike finally broke it, standing up and beginning to fidget.
“Buffy, what I said before…never mind it, yeah? I want the tykes to have a somewhat normal life…they don’t need to have anything more complicated.”
He motioned over to the corner of Buffy’s hotel room where an inexpensive crib, cushioned with t-shirts, held the two tiny, sleeping infants. Buffy silently chided herself for thinking of Spike first, before walking in awe to the crib. Spike hugged her from behind, looking over her shoulder at their children.
“You thought of names yet, pet?”
“Well, I only had one name picked out for certain…”
“And what was that, love?”
"No, you’ll laugh at me.”
“Pet, we’ve been through enough for that not to bother you. I’ll laugh at you regardless, and you’ll laugh at me regardless. So out with it. What’d you pick?”
“I thought I was only having a boy, so I named him William.”
Spike’s face softened, and Buffy noticed his chest puffing out in pride slightly.
“Lovely sentiment. I never took to the name m’self, but he looks like a William. A lot stronger than I was.”
They both smiled at their son. Buffy lightly stroked the soft back of their daughter.
“But what about her? I never even thought…”
“Joyce.”
Buffy stared at Spike for a moment.
“My mother?”
“She was the nicest….she…she was a wonderful woman, Buffy. First human in a hundred years I didn’t see as food or a challenge. I know how much your mum meant to you. It’s the right thing to do, love. If you remember, your mum liked me before you did.”
“That’s true…so…are they William and Joyce Summers or…uh…William and Joyce ‘The Bloody’?”
Spike frowned.
“Oh, like I don’t have a last name, eh?”
“Well, I’ve only heard of you as Spike or William the Bloody. Ick…does that mean I have to be Mrs. The Bloody? Because I seriously doubt that’ll look good monogrammed on towels.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Spike chuckled at Buffy’s confused expression.
“God, Buffy, I do love you, you know.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“Right. So, I haven’t quite thought about my name since I was turned, so I guess this is kind of a big deal, yeah?”
“Should I do a drum roll?”
“Y’know, if you’re going to make fun, I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to be Mrs. The Bloody for all eternity and have people snicker at you.”
“Sorry. I’ll be good…promise.”
“Yeah, yeah…heard that one before. Well, my name is as anti-climactic as a name can be, Buffy, so, sorry.”
“So it is…?”
“Pratt. William the Bloody Pratt.”
“Pratt? Like, ‘Stop being such a Pratt?’ Your name is a sort of curse word?”
Buffy could hardly contain her laughter, but Spike seemed less amused.
“Y’ promised now…I haven’t used that name since my own mum passed….”
Buffy’s giggling expression shifted into concern, and she wrapped a tender arm around Spike’s waist, pulling him into her chest.
“We’re kindred spirits Spike. I think that’s why we’ve always managed to find each other, one way or another.”
He turned and kissed her forehead.
“I should probably let the others know you’re….”
Buffy violently pushed Spike onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pining him down.
“No…you’re going to do what Anya told you to do to me. Spike…I want you to claim me.”
Spike sat up, pulling Buffy to his eyelevel, allowing her to straddle him.
“Buffy, love, I can’t risk anything happening to you…to the kids…Angel is right…it’s too dangerous.”
“I love how everyone besides me decides what’s right for my life. The kids need their father, and I need you! If you don’t do this, we’ll all lose you forever. Spike, I’m no good without you. I can’t handle it…how can a broken down Buffy raise two kids alone? Let alone two immortal kids….”
Spike could feel himself hardening underneath Buffy’s warmth. When she began to stroke his leg, he growled softly.
“Buffy, pet…you just gave birth a few hours ago…it’s too soon…we...we just have to wait, yeah?”
“I guess,” Buffy said, yawning.
“You’re too tired anyhow, pet. Sleep now. We’ll figure something else out.”
“But what Anya said….”
“What Anya said can wait until the morning, pet.”
“But they’ll take you if….”
Spike picked her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed, tucking her underneath the sheets.
“You want me though, yeah?”
“Of course….”
“Well, then, that should be good enough for the bird. I’m not taking any more energy out of you tonight, pet.”
Buffy dreamily nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. Spike stood above her for a moment before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He pulled a chair up next to the crib holding their sleeping infants. He watched their chests rise and fall until sunrise, with an overwhelming sense of pride and love.
--
Three weeks later, Buffy had finally regained most of her superhuman abilities, though she was still slightly tired. Having no other home to go to, and refusing to stay with Angel again, Spike, Buffy, and their children remained in the small hotel room.
“We’ll find some place to go to, love,” he had told her. “I promise.”
Since Spike’s return to Buffy’s side, she hadn’t needed to tap into her own resources. She didn’t ask him where he got his funds from, but she was relieved to be taken care of for the first time since her mother was alive. The twins were growing quickly; Buffy and Spike were enthralled to watch every new thing they learned to do. Joyce had already begun to crawl, giving Buffy and Spike a new worry with the state of the hotel’s carpet. Anya had mentioned that the children would be powerful, but Buffy was still amazed at how quickly they were growing.
Spike entered the hotel room, and Buffy was quick to hush him.
“Shh…they’re sleeping!”
“Finally?”
She beamed.
“It was a lot of work to put Joyce down…she loves the nighttime, just like her Daddy.”
“I only love it when I’m with you, pet.”
Spike pulled Buffy close to him, and breathed in her scent.
“You smell lovely Buffy.”
Feeling her arousal begin to awaken, Buffy stepped slightly back from Spike. She knew that he only had her best interests at heart, but she was still frustrated from being left hanging for three weeks.
“I should probably get some sleep….”
“Oh no you don’t, Slayer. You’re feeling like your old self again, yeah?”
“I guess so…why?”
In a flash, Buffy was back in Spike’s arms. Barely able to restrain his inner beast, Spike reached up to Buffy’s shoulders and slipped the straps of her flimsy tank top off her. She shimmied out of the rest of her top before wriggling free of her silky pajama bottoms. Spike’s long member was now throbbing at attention. He licked his lips as she brushed up against him.
“Love…if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to stop m’self. You sure this is what you want? There’s no going back y’know….”
She nodded as she unzipped the dress pants he was wearing. Spike freed himself of the pant’s constraints, tossing them into a heap on the floor. Buffy’s eyes rolled back and she gasped quietly as Spike kissed and licked at her nipples.
“I’m yours Spike…always will be….”
That was all the assent that Spike needed. He quickly flipped her onto her back. His hard cock begged for attention as he lightly kissed Buffy’s taut stomach, moving slowly downward to her smooth mound. He looked up at her and smiled.
“I see you’ve given yourself a little haircut?”
Blood rushed back to Buffy’s face, though it didn’t diminish the blood flowing to another region.
“I read that it was good for delivery, so I figured I’d try it beforehand, and I liked it so much, I’ve kept it up.”
“I’m glad you did, kitten. You’re breathtaking.”
Spike buried his face between her legs, his long, lithe tongue lapping at her clit. Buffy moaned in response as his nimble fingers slipped into her folds. A slick wetness washed over his hands as she tensed, then relaxed in a series of spasms.
Buffy pulled Spike up from between her legs, pushing him onto his side. Sinking down to his crotch level, Buffy began to lick and suck on Spike’s full member. As he groaned in pleasure, she took his girth fully into her mouth.
“God! Buffy!”
Spike pulled himself out of her soft mouth, again flipping her onto her back, and pressed his thick cock into her wet folds. She gasped as he widened her warm channel.
“Oh Spike! I’m yours…all yours!”
Sensing her readiness and his building orgasm, Spike vamped out.
“Buffy, love, d’you trust me?”
She nodded.
“With everything…oh, God! Oh, Spike, yes!”
“You’re mine, Slayer!”
As Spike bit into Buffy’s neck, the marks left by Angel and Dracula faded into oblivion.
“Yours,” she repeated. “And you’re mine, Vampire.”
“Yours!”
Buffy’s blunt human teeth dug into Spike’s neck, and, as had happened with Buffy, Drusilla’s marks faded from his neck. So entranced in themselves, neither Buffy nor Spike noticed the bright red glow emanating from their hearts. The glow began to fill the room, surrounding the pair and hovering over the cradle. Buffy felt Spike’s essence fill her, his memories coursing through her veins. Scenes of important moments flashed within her—his mother’s illness, his devotion to Cecily and her cold dismissal of him. She saw his turning, and his love for an equally cold Drusilla. The battles between Spike and the two Slayers he triumphed over lingered, and Buffy watched in awe of his power and mental prowess.
Her eyes filled with tears as she witnessed the pain she had caused Spike; no matter what good he did. She realized, in horror, that her own cruelty to Spike was far worse than any Cecily or Drusilla could have inflicted. Tears rolling down her face, Buffy gasped for breath as she was released from the vision. She could now feel the distinct difference, and could feel Spike within her blood…in her mind…in everything. She felt stronger, nay, invincibly strong. Spike gasped, and brought her back to reality.
“Spike, what just happened?”
“Don’t deserve your love…get back!”
Spike crawled back into a corner of the hotel room, covering his face.
“I can’t…no. Hurt you too much, Buffy. And I can’t…I can’t let you get hurt again….”
“No! Spike…Spike please!”
“I saw you, Buffy. I saw what I did to you. God! That night…I wish I never came back to haunt you…why can’t you just be rid of me? God I’ve been such a monster….”
Buffy took his hand, not allowing him to pull it back.
“You weren’t the monster, Spike. I was. I was no better than Cecily or Drusilla…I saw your loyalty, strength and love and I exploited you…I’m so sorry…Spike…forgive me?”
“Buffy…I don’t deserve you.”
A shrill voice interjected.
“No, you don’t, but what do I know?”
Wiping tears from each other’s cheeks, Spike and Buffy managed weak smiles.
“Hello Anya….”
--
He must have already done that one, dummy.
He smiled broadly when he caught Buffy’s sleepy eyes.
“Well, g’morning Mommy.”
She cringed slightly.
"Spike…no. Not used to that yet…it’s a whole year or so before they’ll be able to say that, anyway. Right?”
He laughed.
"You’ve obviously never been around kids much have you, pet? No, they start that up pretty quickly. Six months at the most. And they always seem to say ‘Mama’ first.”
She tried to scowl at Spike, but broke out into an almost blindingly brilliant grin. He had never seen her so happy.
“Well, that’s how it should be.”
“Indeed, pet.”
Spike and Buffy sat in silence for minutes that seemed like years. Spike finally broke it, standing up and beginning to fidget.
“Buffy, what I said before…never mind it, yeah? I want the tykes to have a somewhat normal life…they don’t need to have anything more complicated.”
He motioned over to the corner of Buffy’s hotel room where an inexpensive crib, cushioned with t-shirts, held the two tiny, sleeping infants. Buffy silently chided herself for thinking of Spike first, before walking in awe to the crib. Spike hugged her from behind, looking over her shoulder at their children.
“You thought of names yet, pet?”
“Well, I only had one name picked out for certain…”
“And what was that, love?”
"No, you’ll laugh at me.”
“Pet, we’ve been through enough for that not to bother you. I’ll laugh at you regardless, and you’ll laugh at me regardless. So out with it. What’d you pick?”
“I thought I was only having a boy, so I named him William.”
Spike’s face softened, and Buffy noticed his chest puffing out in pride slightly.
“Lovely sentiment. I never took to the name m’self, but he looks like a William. A lot stronger than I was.”
They both smiled at their son. Buffy lightly stroked the soft back of their daughter.
“But what about her? I never even thought…”
“Joyce.”
Buffy stared at Spike for a moment.
“My mother?”
“She was the nicest….she…she was a wonderful woman, Buffy. First human in a hundred years I didn’t see as food or a challenge. I know how much your mum meant to you. It’s the right thing to do, love. If you remember, your mum liked me before you did.”
“That’s true…so…are they William and Joyce Summers or…uh…William and Joyce ‘The Bloody’?”
Spike frowned.
“Oh, like I don’t have a last name, eh?”
“Well, I’ve only heard of you as Spike or William the Bloody. Ick…does that mean I have to be Mrs. The Bloody? Because I seriously doubt that’ll look good monogrammed on towels.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Spike chuckled at Buffy’s confused expression.
“God, Buffy, I do love you, you know.”
“I know. I love you too.”
“Right. So, I haven’t quite thought about my name since I was turned, so I guess this is kind of a big deal, yeah?”
“Should I do a drum roll?”
“Y’know, if you’re going to make fun, I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to be Mrs. The Bloody for all eternity and have people snicker at you.”
“Sorry. I’ll be good…promise.”
“Yeah, yeah…heard that one before. Well, my name is as anti-climactic as a name can be, Buffy, so, sorry.”
“So it is…?”
“Pratt. William the Bloody Pratt.”
“Pratt? Like, ‘Stop being such a Pratt?’ Your name is a sort of curse word?”
Buffy could hardly contain her laughter, but Spike seemed less amused.
“Y’ promised now…I haven’t used that name since my own mum passed….”
Buffy’s giggling expression shifted into concern, and she wrapped a tender arm around Spike’s waist, pulling him into her chest.
“We’re kindred spirits Spike. I think that’s why we’ve always managed to find each other, one way or another.”
He turned and kissed her forehead.
“I should probably let the others know you’re….”
Buffy violently pushed Spike onto the bed, climbing on top of him and pining him down.
“No…you’re going to do what Anya told you to do to me. Spike…I want you to claim me.”
Spike sat up, pulling Buffy to his eyelevel, allowing her to straddle him.
“Buffy, love, I can’t risk anything happening to you…to the kids…Angel is right…it’s too dangerous.”
“I love how everyone besides me decides what’s right for my life. The kids need their father, and I need you! If you don’t do this, we’ll all lose you forever. Spike, I’m no good without you. I can’t handle it…how can a broken down Buffy raise two kids alone? Let alone two immortal kids….”
Spike could feel himself hardening underneath Buffy’s warmth. When she began to stroke his leg, he growled softly.
“Buffy, pet…you just gave birth a few hours ago…it’s too soon…we...we just have to wait, yeah?”
“I guess,” Buffy said, yawning.
“You’re too tired anyhow, pet. Sleep now. We’ll figure something else out.”
“But what Anya said….”
“What Anya said can wait until the morning, pet.”
“But they’ll take you if….”
Spike picked her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed, tucking her underneath the sheets.
“You want me though, yeah?”
“Of course….”
“Well, then, that should be good enough for the bird. I’m not taking any more energy out of you tonight, pet.”
Buffy dreamily nodded, her eyes fluttering shut. Spike stood above her for a moment before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He pulled a chair up next to the crib holding their sleeping infants. He watched their chests rise and fall until sunrise, with an overwhelming sense of pride and love.
--
Three weeks later, Buffy had finally regained most of her superhuman abilities, though she was still slightly tired. Having no other home to go to, and refusing to stay with Angel again, Spike, Buffy, and their children remained in the small hotel room.
“We’ll find some place to go to, love,” he had told her. “I promise.”
Since Spike’s return to Buffy’s side, she hadn’t needed to tap into her own resources. She didn’t ask him where he got his funds from, but she was relieved to be taken care of for the first time since her mother was alive. The twins were growing quickly; Buffy and Spike were enthralled to watch every new thing they learned to do. Joyce had already begun to crawl, giving Buffy and Spike a new worry with the state of the hotel’s carpet. Anya had mentioned that the children would be powerful, but Buffy was still amazed at how quickly they were growing.
Spike entered the hotel room, and Buffy was quick to hush him.
“Shh…they’re sleeping!”
“Finally?”
She beamed.
“It was a lot of work to put Joyce down…she loves the nighttime, just like her Daddy.”
“I only love it when I’m with you, pet.”
Spike pulled Buffy close to him, and breathed in her scent.
“You smell lovely Buffy.”
Feeling her arousal begin to awaken, Buffy stepped slightly back from Spike. She knew that he only had her best interests at heart, but she was still frustrated from being left hanging for three weeks.
“I should probably get some sleep….”
“Oh no you don’t, Slayer. You’re feeling like your old self again, yeah?”
“I guess so…why?”
In a flash, Buffy was back in Spike’s arms. Barely able to restrain his inner beast, Spike reached up to Buffy’s shoulders and slipped the straps of her flimsy tank top off her. She shimmied out of the rest of her top before wriggling free of her silky pajama bottoms. Spike’s long member was now throbbing at attention. He licked his lips as she brushed up against him.
“Love…if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to stop m’self. You sure this is what you want? There’s no going back y’know….”
She nodded as she unzipped the dress pants he was wearing. Spike freed himself of the pant’s constraints, tossing them into a heap on the floor. Buffy’s eyes rolled back and she gasped quietly as Spike kissed and licked at her nipples.
“I’m yours Spike…always will be….”
That was all the assent that Spike needed. He quickly flipped her onto her back. His hard cock begged for attention as he lightly kissed Buffy’s taut stomach, moving slowly downward to her smooth mound. He looked up at her and smiled.
“I see you’ve given yourself a little haircut?”
Blood rushed back to Buffy’s face, though it didn’t diminish the blood flowing to another region.
“I read that it was good for delivery, so I figured I’d try it beforehand, and I liked it so much, I’ve kept it up.”
“I’m glad you did, kitten. You’re breathtaking.”
Spike buried his face between her legs, his long, lithe tongue lapping at her clit. Buffy moaned in response as his nimble fingers slipped into her folds. A slick wetness washed over his hands as she tensed, then relaxed in a series of spasms.
Buffy pulled Spike up from between her legs, pushing him onto his side. Sinking down to his crotch level, Buffy began to lick and suck on Spike’s full member. As he groaned in pleasure, she took his girth fully into her mouth.
“God! Buffy!”
Spike pulled himself out of her soft mouth, again flipping her onto her back, and pressed his thick cock into her wet folds. She gasped as he widened her warm channel.
“Oh Spike! I’m yours…all yours!”
Sensing her readiness and his building orgasm, Spike vamped out.
“Buffy, love, d’you trust me?”
She nodded.
“With everything…oh, God! Oh, Spike, yes!”
“You’re mine, Slayer!”
As Spike bit into Buffy’s neck, the marks left by Angel and Dracula faded into oblivion.
“Yours,” she repeated. “And you’re mine, Vampire.”
“Yours!”
Buffy’s blunt human teeth dug into Spike’s neck, and, as had happened with Buffy, Drusilla’s marks faded from his neck. So entranced in themselves, neither Buffy nor Spike noticed the bright red glow emanating from their hearts. The glow began to fill the room, surrounding the pair and hovering over the cradle. Buffy felt Spike’s essence fill her, his memories coursing through her veins. Scenes of important moments flashed within her—his mother’s illness, his devotion to Cecily and her cold dismissal of him. She saw his turning, and his love for an equally cold Drusilla. The battles between Spike and the two Slayers he triumphed over lingered, and Buffy watched in awe of his power and mental prowess.
Her eyes filled with tears as she witnessed the pain she had caused Spike; no matter what good he did. She realized, in horror, that her own cruelty to Spike was far worse than any Cecily or Drusilla could have inflicted. Tears rolling down her face, Buffy gasped for breath as she was released from the vision. She could now feel the distinct difference, and could feel Spike within her blood…in her mind…in everything. She felt stronger, nay, invincibly strong. Spike gasped, and brought her back to reality.
“Spike, what just happened?”
“Don’t deserve your love…get back!”
Spike crawled back into a corner of the hotel room, covering his face.
“I can’t…no. Hurt you too much, Buffy. And I can’t…I can’t let you get hurt again….”
“No! Spike…Spike please!”
“I saw you, Buffy. I saw what I did to you. God! That night…I wish I never came back to haunt you…why can’t you just be rid of me? God I’ve been such a monster….”
Buffy took his hand, not allowing him to pull it back.
“You weren’t the monster, Spike. I was. I was no better than Cecily or Drusilla…I saw your loyalty, strength and love and I exploited you…I’m so sorry…Spike…forgive me?”
“Buffy…I don’t deserve you.”
A shrill voice interjected.
“No, you don’t, but what do I know?”
Wiping tears from each other’s cheeks, Spike and Buffy managed weak smiles.
“Hello Anya….”
--
Back With a Vengeance!
Anya grinned at the couple's slightly annoyed expressions, but quickly frowned, ominously.
“I'm here to send you to hell, Spike, for ignoring my timetable," she bellowed before laughing. "Okay, so the whole 'one week or back to oblivion' thing may have been a bit exageratted."
"Not funny, Anya," Spike said, sighing in relief.
Anya shrugged.
"I've been told I'm very funny. A real 'hoot,' as some demons have put it. But, to each his own, I supposed. But, anyway, I just wanted to pop in to tell you guys something. Oh!! And congratulate you on the mating. I would’ve brought a fruit basket, but they’re so difficult to keep fresh when you’re jumping realms…”
Spike pulled the covers up around his midsection, and brought Buffy close to his chest, covering their nudity.
“Right…so on with it Anya, what happens now?”
“I was getting to that Mr. Snippy! Geez, Buffy, good luck with this one. Well, you should already be sensing some extra power, right?”
“Yeah yeah yeah, we know all that, but why did we get visions of each other’s past?”
“Gods! Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt a rhetorical question?”
Anya held a finger up and pointed at Spike, who was about to speak.
“That was another rhetorical question Spike. Gods you’re irritating! Well, with practice, you’ll be able to access each other’s memories. That burst of images you saw was basically all of the information downloading. But, what I was trying to say was that you have all of each other’s powers, so you’re like, super-vampire/Slayers. You’ll both be immortal, which I guess is no new deal for you, Spike, but now the only things that can actually kill you have to happen when you’re really far apart from each other…like if someone beheads you on both sides of the world, you’ll both die…the further apart you are, the more vulnerable you are. But when you’re together, you’re unstoppable.”
“We were unstoppable to begin with,” Buffy interjected.
“Right…well, ‘cept for that pesky little me bursting into flames bit.”
“Oh yeah…but you’re here now right?”
“I s’ppose.”
Anya huffed, but smiled.
“See? You’ve already started. You’re just off in your own little world.”
One of the infants began to stir, but quieted down almost instantly. Anya’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh! Oh yeah! I almost forgot about your kids! These two will lead especially fortunate lives. They’ll be immortal, just like you, and will age until they’re 21, which I think is the best age to be, personally…either that or 342, but then again, what do I know? Anyway, they’re immortal, but they aren’t stuck with each other like the two of you are, but they can be killed, beheading, staking, the usual, but they’ll be so powerful I doubt anyone’ll get that far. They have half-Slayer, half-vampire strengths with almost none of the weaknesses.”
“What do you mean almost? Y’know, for an all knowing specter, you sure are vague.”
“I am not a specter! I’m a spirit…a presence, if you will. Anyway, the worst weakness they’ll have is a slight over sensitivity to sunlight. Just remember the sunscreen when you’re at the beach, okay? Oh! I almost forgot! Spike you’re the same way now! Just lather up on the sun block and you’re good to go…just as long as you’re with Buffy. You’ll have to have a bit of blood every once in a while, but nothing like before. You could probably get by on a pint of pig’s blood a week! But don’t worry, the rest of your children will be fine in the sun and will be almost as strong as William and Joyce…and none of them will need blood like Spike.”
Buffy sat up, and Anya averted her eyes from the topless Slayer.
“Wait…more children? How many am I having here?”
“Well, I can’t give you an exact number, per se, but at least you only have six months of pregnancy instead of nine!”
Buffy sighed and laid back into Spike’s waiting arms.
“We’re going to have to get a bigger house.”
“Yeah. Four bedroom, two bath…‘merican dream, love.”
Anya piped up.
“You may want to think of a six or seven bedroom, but I don’t know anything!”
With a snap of her fingers, Anya was gone, enveloped in a puff of smoke. Buffy turned to her mate, admiring the set of teeth marks she’d left on his neck.
“So…you wanna get started on filling up that house?”
--
~~~Five Years Later~~~
“But Mommy!”
"No Joyce. You know how your Daddy is about that sort of thing. Just let it be…when he’s ready, and when he knows you’re ready, he’ll tell you. Now, back to training.”
Buffy held pink mats on her palms at waist level, and coached a spry blonde cherub with Shirley Temple curls on proper roundhouse kicks. After a few successful attempts, Joyce pouted yet again.
“But Mommy, I want to know what Daddy was like when he was ‘the Big Bad.’”
“Did he teach you that name?”
“Yes. Does that mean he was like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood?”
Buffy smiled at her daughter, whose porcelain skin glistened with sweat.
“No honey. Your Daddy was never a wolf.”
“I wouldn’t quite say that pet.”
Spike leaned on the door smiling at the two girls. He held a toddler on his hip and a small boy, identical to Joyce aside from the length of the curls on his head, tugged at his shirt. The boy spoke first.
“Daddy, please tell us a story about when you were bad.”
“William, William, William…son…you’re too young to hear about that, and it’d scare your sisters.”
The toddler at Spike’s hip pouted.
“Story, Papa.”
Buffy smiled at the strawberry haired little girl, her pout every bit identical to her own.
“Well Miss. Tara Lyn Pratt, you’ve been hanging around your big brother too much!”
Tara gasped and buried her face in Spike’s shoulder. He grinned.
“It’s alright, poppet. Let’s go check on your little brother, yeah?”
She nodded and clutched onto Spike as he walked into an adjacent room where a tiny infant lay sleeping.
“You wanna say hi to him, poppet?”
Tara nodded, and blew a kiss to the sleeping infant.
“Hi Conrad!”
Buffy walked into the room, followed by Joyce and William.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, pet?”
“I wanted to wait until dinner to tell you, but since everyone’s together….”
“What is it Buffy?”
“Umm…well, we’re….”
“Buffy, you’re not….?”
“Pregnant again?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, yeah…I kind of am.”
“Guess we should’ve listened to the bird when she said to get an extra room.”
“I suppose…but I would have thought with an eternity to have children, we wouldn’t have this many within five years!”
Buffy and Spike exchanged loving smiles, as the children cheered and danced around them.
“Yay! Another baby!”
A puff of smoke burst into the room, and Anya emereged.
“Another three.”
Spike’s eyes widened.
“What?”
Buffy smacked at his chest.
“What in the hell are you eating that you’re this potent?”
Spike shrugged.
“Dunno pet, you’re the one feeding me.”
Anya snapped her fingers in an attempt to draw the attention back to her.
“Not to be a bother, but since you are having three, and you’ve already exhausted your list of dead relatives and friends….”
Buffy smiled at the one Scoobie who had not only kept in touch in life, but in afterlife as well.
“You want us to name one of them after you, Anya?”
“Well…now that you mention it, that might be nice…especially since I’ve helped you out so much…I think I deserve something.”
Spike smiled and shook his head.
“Y’ haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
“Why change what’s perfect?”
With another snap of her fingers and puff of smoke, Anya was gone. Buffy frowned as she looked sullenly around the room.
“You know, I’ll never be able to get the smoke smell out of the drapes.”
--
“I'm here to send you to hell, Spike, for ignoring my timetable," she bellowed before laughing. "Okay, so the whole 'one week or back to oblivion' thing may have been a bit exageratted."
"Not funny, Anya," Spike said, sighing in relief.
Anya shrugged.
"I've been told I'm very funny. A real 'hoot,' as some demons have put it. But, to each his own, I supposed. But, anyway, I just wanted to pop in to tell you guys something. Oh!! And congratulate you on the mating. I would’ve brought a fruit basket, but they’re so difficult to keep fresh when you’re jumping realms…”
Spike pulled the covers up around his midsection, and brought Buffy close to his chest, covering their nudity.
“Right…so on with it Anya, what happens now?”
“I was getting to that Mr. Snippy! Geez, Buffy, good luck with this one. Well, you should already be sensing some extra power, right?”
“Yeah yeah yeah, we know all that, but why did we get visions of each other’s past?”
“Gods! Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to interrupt a rhetorical question?”
Anya held a finger up and pointed at Spike, who was about to speak.
“That was another rhetorical question Spike. Gods you’re irritating! Well, with practice, you’ll be able to access each other’s memories. That burst of images you saw was basically all of the information downloading. But, what I was trying to say was that you have all of each other’s powers, so you’re like, super-vampire/Slayers. You’ll both be immortal, which I guess is no new deal for you, Spike, but now the only things that can actually kill you have to happen when you’re really far apart from each other…like if someone beheads you on both sides of the world, you’ll both die…the further apart you are, the more vulnerable you are. But when you’re together, you’re unstoppable.”
“We were unstoppable to begin with,” Buffy interjected.
“Right…well, ‘cept for that pesky little me bursting into flames bit.”
“Oh yeah…but you’re here now right?”
“I s’ppose.”
Anya huffed, but smiled.
“See? You’ve already started. You’re just off in your own little world.”
One of the infants began to stir, but quieted down almost instantly. Anya’s eyes sparkled.
“Oh! Oh yeah! I almost forgot about your kids! These two will lead especially fortunate lives. They’ll be immortal, just like you, and will age until they’re 21, which I think is the best age to be, personally…either that or 342, but then again, what do I know? Anyway, they’re immortal, but they aren’t stuck with each other like the two of you are, but they can be killed, beheading, staking, the usual, but they’ll be so powerful I doubt anyone’ll get that far. They have half-Slayer, half-vampire strengths with almost none of the weaknesses.”
“What do you mean almost? Y’know, for an all knowing specter, you sure are vague.”
“I am not a specter! I’m a spirit…a presence, if you will. Anyway, the worst weakness they’ll have is a slight over sensitivity to sunlight. Just remember the sunscreen when you’re at the beach, okay? Oh! I almost forgot! Spike you’re the same way now! Just lather up on the sun block and you’re good to go…just as long as you’re with Buffy. You’ll have to have a bit of blood every once in a while, but nothing like before. You could probably get by on a pint of pig’s blood a week! But don’t worry, the rest of your children will be fine in the sun and will be almost as strong as William and Joyce…and none of them will need blood like Spike.”
Buffy sat up, and Anya averted her eyes from the topless Slayer.
“Wait…more children? How many am I having here?”
“Well, I can’t give you an exact number, per se, but at least you only have six months of pregnancy instead of nine!”
Buffy sighed and laid back into Spike’s waiting arms.
“We’re going to have to get a bigger house.”
“Yeah. Four bedroom, two bath…‘merican dream, love.”
Anya piped up.
“You may want to think of a six or seven bedroom, but I don’t know anything!”
With a snap of her fingers, Anya was gone, enveloped in a puff of smoke. Buffy turned to her mate, admiring the set of teeth marks she’d left on his neck.
“So…you wanna get started on filling up that house?”
--
~~~Five Years Later~~~
“But Mommy!”
"No Joyce. You know how your Daddy is about that sort of thing. Just let it be…when he’s ready, and when he knows you’re ready, he’ll tell you. Now, back to training.”
Buffy held pink mats on her palms at waist level, and coached a spry blonde cherub with Shirley Temple curls on proper roundhouse kicks. After a few successful attempts, Joyce pouted yet again.
“But Mommy, I want to know what Daddy was like when he was ‘the Big Bad.’”
“Did he teach you that name?”
“Yes. Does that mean he was like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood?”
Buffy smiled at her daughter, whose porcelain skin glistened with sweat.
“No honey. Your Daddy was never a wolf.”
“I wouldn’t quite say that pet.”
Spike leaned on the door smiling at the two girls. He held a toddler on his hip and a small boy, identical to Joyce aside from the length of the curls on his head, tugged at his shirt. The boy spoke first.
“Daddy, please tell us a story about when you were bad.”
“William, William, William…son…you’re too young to hear about that, and it’d scare your sisters.”
The toddler at Spike’s hip pouted.
“Story, Papa.”
Buffy smiled at the strawberry haired little girl, her pout every bit identical to her own.
“Well Miss. Tara Lyn Pratt, you’ve been hanging around your big brother too much!”
Tara gasped and buried her face in Spike’s shoulder. He grinned.
“It’s alright, poppet. Let’s go check on your little brother, yeah?”
She nodded and clutched onto Spike as he walked into an adjacent room where a tiny infant lay sleeping.
“You wanna say hi to him, poppet?”
Tara nodded, and blew a kiss to the sleeping infant.
“Hi Conrad!”
Buffy walked into the room, followed by Joyce and William.
“Spike?”
“Yeah, pet?”
“I wanted to wait until dinner to tell you, but since everyone’s together….”
“What is it Buffy?”
“Umm…well, we’re….”
“Buffy, you’re not….?”
“Pregnant again?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, yeah…I kind of am.”
“Guess we should’ve listened to the bird when she said to get an extra room.”
“I suppose…but I would have thought with an eternity to have children, we wouldn’t have this many within five years!”
Buffy and Spike exchanged loving smiles, as the children cheered and danced around them.
“Yay! Another baby!”
A puff of smoke burst into the room, and Anya emereged.
“Another three.”
Spike’s eyes widened.
“What?”
Buffy smacked at his chest.
“What in the hell are you eating that you’re this potent?”
Spike shrugged.
“Dunno pet, you’re the one feeding me.”
Anya snapped her fingers in an attempt to draw the attention back to her.
“Not to be a bother, but since you are having three, and you’ve already exhausted your list of dead relatives and friends….”
Buffy smiled at the one Scoobie who had not only kept in touch in life, but in afterlife as well.
“You want us to name one of them after you, Anya?”
“Well…now that you mention it, that might be nice…especially since I’ve helped you out so much…I think I deserve something.”
Spike smiled and shook his head.
“Y’ haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
“Why change what’s perfect?”
With another snap of her fingers and puff of smoke, Anya was gone. Buffy frowned as she looked sullenly around the room.
“You know, I’ll never be able to get the smoke smell out of the drapes.”
--
Revenge
~~~50 years later~~~
A cool breeze from the ocean caused Buffy to shudder, and Spike wrapped his arms around her instinctively. In the years since they mated, they had lost contact with everyone outside of their own family, aside from an occasional visit from Anyanka, or an even more occasional phone call from an elderly Dawn in London.
When Giles had died thirty years earlier, he left Buffy the bulk of his estate, which, unbeknownst to anyone, amassed a small fortune. Years of milking a small collection of suits, and penny pinching had apparently allowed the Watcher to hide away the majority of his paychecks from the Council and the Sunnydale Library. Buffy quickly hid the money in a Swiss bank account, a fact that she only shared with Spike. The interest from Giles’ fortune was more than enough to fund a lavish immortal lifestyle, however, Buffy, Spike and their brood preferred to keep a much lower profile. “With every outlandishly spent dollar, comes attention,” Spike would often tell Buffy when she begged for a particular piece of jewelry or expensive gift. Despite scolding her on keeping their spending and profile low, Buffy would always find the much sought after item wrapped in gold foil on their bed the next night. Spike did everything in his power to make her happy, regardless of the attention or cost it brought. Buffy sometimes wondered if he stole some of the gifts, in hopes of not only pleasing her, but also regaining some of his “Bad Boy” clout. And though she could read his mind, she knew better than to bring the subject up, instead, resigning herself to allowing “boys to be boys.” Spike and Buffy had lost the need to verbally speak to each other within the past half of a century. Their mental connection was now so strong, that they carried out the majority of their conversations telepathically.
Buffy still continued to fight evil with Spike close at her side, but, she was now more careful with each of their lives, even if they were almost invincible, because of the two small children relying on them for support until their immortal powers became apparent. After giving birth to the triplets: Roxanne, Rupert, and Anya Leigh, Buffy had waited another twenty years before trying for another child, Althea, who they had no trouble conceiving.
While Buffy never regretted having any of her children, Althea was a handful in youth, and a terror in her immortal adulthood. She seemingly inherited all of her parent’s most evil attributes, and none of the good. Even Anyanka had alerted Spike and Buffy of their wayward daughter’s powers, after Althea had murdered a fragile, but powerful, Willow, and about a dozen other witches in Willow’s coven, in one of her many killing sprees.
One by one Althea was picking off the most powerful beings in existence, be they good or evil, simply to show that she could. Buffy hated to think of it, but her daughter was swiftly becoming her worst enemy.
--
Spike held a large, picture-filled book in front of the toddler in his lap. Colette was as blonde as she could be; with her father’s piercingly blue eyes, and her mother’s full, pouty lips, a trait she used on her father to get her way. At two years old, she had realized the manipulative power that pout held over her father, after her mother had used it to get her own way. She now had a pony and countless “princess” accessories covering the floor of her bedroom. To say she was Spike’s favorite would be an understatement. As he read the story of “Sleeping Beauty” to her, her pair of pink-footied feet kicked back and forth happily.
Buffy smiled when she entered their living room. Although they weren’t exactly in hiding, they thought it best to lay especially low until their two youngest children, Colette and Dylan, had reached adulthood. Buffy retreated into a training room set up in their seaside French manor. Expecting to be alone, Buffy was pleasantly surprised to find her 12-year-old son, Dylan, beating a dummy senseless.
“He never stood a chance.”
Dylan, a light brown haired boy with a handful of freckles strewn across his face, which was almost an exact replica of his mother’s, turned and grinned widely. His accent was decidedly Spike.
“Hullo Mummy! I’m getting better at this, I can tell! I’ve knocked the punching bag out of the ceiling twice already!”
“That’s wonderful, Dylan. Your father and I are very proud of your dedication.”
“Really, Mummy? Papa is proud of me?”
Buffy smiled and pushed a few strands of hair out of Dylan’s eyes.
“Of course he is…he always says that you work harder at everything you do than anyone he’s ever met.”
“How many people have you met, Mummy?”
“Many, many people, darling. Most of them are very bad too…so you always need to be careful, and on your guard.”
“Mummy…how old are you and Papa? I look different every year, but you and Papa never change….”
“Well, I’m almost 75 now, and your Papa…well, I’m not sure how old he is exactly dear.”
Spike folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe.
“You’re my wife and you don’t even know how old I am, pet? Tsk tsk. I’m coming up on 207 if you must know, son.”
“Papa!”
Dylan beamed and rushed to grab Spike’s hand.
“Look at what I did, Papa,” he said, pointing to the punching bad surrounded by ceiling tiles and dust on the floor.
Spike patted him on the back.
“I’m very proud of you, Dylan.”
Dylan beamed with pride at his father. Buffy smiled, until Colette’s shriek ripped through their home. Buffy’s heart felt as if it stopped.
“Colette!!!”
Running into Colette’s princess-themed bedroom sent Buffy into a panic. The cold sea air blew in through an open window, and Colette’s bed was empty, aside from an envelope lying on her pillow. Spike picked it up with a shaking hand.
The phrase, MUMMY AND DADDY was written in block letters on the front.
“Althea….”
--
Buffy hung the now ancient rotary phone back on the hook. Her children teased her relentlessly about being the last “land line” in existence, but she was grateful she still had some form of basic communication to the outside world. Buffy was too distraught to form words, so, she and Spike carried out their conversation telepathically, as they often did.
"Tara Lyn is on her way…but coming from the states, it’ll be at least four hours till she can get here."
Spike nodded, holding Buffy’s clammy hand gently in his.
“Buffy, love, we’ll find her.”
“Yeah.”
“And for all of her faults, Althea wouldn’t dare hurt her sister. She always doted on Colette more than even we did.”
"Yes, Spike, I know. I’m just terrified that she isn’t really the mastermind behind all of this.”
“What do you mean, love?”
“Spike, I didn’t want to think about it, but I’ve been hearing rumors that Angelus is back.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know for sure! I didn’t want to think about it, and I figured that after fifty years he would have forgotten about me…”
“Angelus never forgets anything, love. If he is back, that would explain Althea’s note…she always hated writing, even the slightest bit. But she’d be easily influenced by someone as charismatic as Angelus.”
“And as crazy.”
“Buffy, love, let’s not think about that now. The kids’ll get here, and we’ll sort this whole thing out, yeah?”
Buffy sank into Spike’s arms in exhaustion; although she was immortal, she still needed rest. For the first time in fifty years, nightmares muddled her sleep.
--TO BE CONTINUED!--
A cool breeze from the ocean caused Buffy to shudder, and Spike wrapped his arms around her instinctively. In the years since they mated, they had lost contact with everyone outside of their own family, aside from an occasional visit from Anyanka, or an even more occasional phone call from an elderly Dawn in London.
When Giles had died thirty years earlier, he left Buffy the bulk of his estate, which, unbeknownst to anyone, amassed a small fortune. Years of milking a small collection of suits, and penny pinching had apparently allowed the Watcher to hide away the majority of his paychecks from the Council and the Sunnydale Library. Buffy quickly hid the money in a Swiss bank account, a fact that she only shared with Spike. The interest from Giles’ fortune was more than enough to fund a lavish immortal lifestyle, however, Buffy, Spike and their brood preferred to keep a much lower profile. “With every outlandishly spent dollar, comes attention,” Spike would often tell Buffy when she begged for a particular piece of jewelry or expensive gift. Despite scolding her on keeping their spending and profile low, Buffy would always find the much sought after item wrapped in gold foil on their bed the next night. Spike did everything in his power to make her happy, regardless of the attention or cost it brought. Buffy sometimes wondered if he stole some of the gifts, in hopes of not only pleasing her, but also regaining some of his “Bad Boy” clout. And though she could read his mind, she knew better than to bring the subject up, instead, resigning herself to allowing “boys to be boys.” Spike and Buffy had lost the need to verbally speak to each other within the past half of a century. Their mental connection was now so strong, that they carried out the majority of their conversations telepathically.
Buffy still continued to fight evil with Spike close at her side, but, she was now more careful with each of their lives, even if they were almost invincible, because of the two small children relying on them for support until their immortal powers became apparent. After giving birth to the triplets: Roxanne, Rupert, and Anya Leigh, Buffy had waited another twenty years before trying for another child, Althea, who they had no trouble conceiving.
While Buffy never regretted having any of her children, Althea was a handful in youth, and a terror in her immortal adulthood. She seemingly inherited all of her parent’s most evil attributes, and none of the good. Even Anyanka had alerted Spike and Buffy of their wayward daughter’s powers, after Althea had murdered a fragile, but powerful, Willow, and about a dozen other witches in Willow’s coven, in one of her many killing sprees.
One by one Althea was picking off the most powerful beings in existence, be they good or evil, simply to show that she could. Buffy hated to think of it, but her daughter was swiftly becoming her worst enemy.
--
Spike held a large, picture-filled book in front of the toddler in his lap. Colette was as blonde as she could be; with her father’s piercingly blue eyes, and her mother’s full, pouty lips, a trait she used on her father to get her way. At two years old, she had realized the manipulative power that pout held over her father, after her mother had used it to get her own way. She now had a pony and countless “princess” accessories covering the floor of her bedroom. To say she was Spike’s favorite would be an understatement. As he read the story of “Sleeping Beauty” to her, her pair of pink-footied feet kicked back and forth happily.
Buffy smiled when she entered their living room. Although they weren’t exactly in hiding, they thought it best to lay especially low until their two youngest children, Colette and Dylan, had reached adulthood. Buffy retreated into a training room set up in their seaside French manor. Expecting to be alone, Buffy was pleasantly surprised to find her 12-year-old son, Dylan, beating a dummy senseless.
“He never stood a chance.”
Dylan, a light brown haired boy with a handful of freckles strewn across his face, which was almost an exact replica of his mother’s, turned and grinned widely. His accent was decidedly Spike.
“Hullo Mummy! I’m getting better at this, I can tell! I’ve knocked the punching bag out of the ceiling twice already!”
“That’s wonderful, Dylan. Your father and I are very proud of your dedication.”
“Really, Mummy? Papa is proud of me?”
Buffy smiled and pushed a few strands of hair out of Dylan’s eyes.
“Of course he is…he always says that you work harder at everything you do than anyone he’s ever met.”
“How many people have you met, Mummy?”
“Many, many people, darling. Most of them are very bad too…so you always need to be careful, and on your guard.”
“Mummy…how old are you and Papa? I look different every year, but you and Papa never change….”
“Well, I’m almost 75 now, and your Papa…well, I’m not sure how old he is exactly dear.”
Spike folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe.
“You’re my wife and you don’t even know how old I am, pet? Tsk tsk. I’m coming up on 207 if you must know, son.”
“Papa!”
Dylan beamed and rushed to grab Spike’s hand.
“Look at what I did, Papa,” he said, pointing to the punching bad surrounded by ceiling tiles and dust on the floor.
Spike patted him on the back.
“I’m very proud of you, Dylan.”
Dylan beamed with pride at his father. Buffy smiled, until Colette’s shriek ripped through their home. Buffy’s heart felt as if it stopped.
“Colette!!!”
Running into Colette’s princess-themed bedroom sent Buffy into a panic. The cold sea air blew in through an open window, and Colette’s bed was empty, aside from an envelope lying on her pillow. Spike picked it up with a shaking hand.
The phrase, MUMMY AND DADDY was written in block letters on the front.
“Althea….”
--
Buffy hung the now ancient rotary phone back on the hook. Her children teased her relentlessly about being the last “land line” in existence, but she was grateful she still had some form of basic communication to the outside world. Buffy was too distraught to form words, so, she and Spike carried out their conversation telepathically, as they often did.
"Tara Lyn is on her way…but coming from the states, it’ll be at least four hours till she can get here."
Spike nodded, holding Buffy’s clammy hand gently in his.
“Buffy, love, we’ll find her.”
“Yeah.”
“And for all of her faults, Althea wouldn’t dare hurt her sister. She always doted on Colette more than even we did.”
"Yes, Spike, I know. I’m just terrified that she isn’t really the mastermind behind all of this.”
“What do you mean, love?”
“Spike, I didn’t want to think about it, but I’ve been hearing rumors that Angelus is back.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know for sure! I didn’t want to think about it, and I figured that after fifty years he would have forgotten about me…”
“Angelus never forgets anything, love. If he is back, that would explain Althea’s note…she always hated writing, even the slightest bit. But she’d be easily influenced by someone as charismatic as Angelus.”
“And as crazy.”
“Buffy, love, let’s not think about that now. The kids’ll get here, and we’ll sort this whole thing out, yeah?”
Buffy sank into Spike’s arms in exhaustion; although she was immortal, she still needed rest. For the first time in fifty years, nightmares muddled her sleep.
--TO BE CONTINUED!--
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